





Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prioes annexed 


DO NOT FORGET 

Thai on receipt of the price , either in cash or stamps, copies of any Books in this 
List vnll be sent to any part of the United States or Canadas, either by mail or ex- 
press, securely and neatly packed, postpaid. Recollect ! any book you want you 
can have at the advertised price, and your order will be dispatched the same day £ 
is received. No charge for catalogues or information. 


TALES OF NEW YORK. EIFE. 


Carolir 

York a 
Young 
of New 
a way ' 
closely- 

The M 

occurre 
tis. T 
terious 
of quee 
smart 1 
Price . . 

The Be 

in and 
get aloi 
A rich, 

Ellen \ 

ing nov 
vividly 
and gr 
Glosely 

The Or; 

Myster 
of even 
which t 

Clarem 

its pha; 
insight 



Glass ~P ( 

Rank .Hl^T 

3 


ife in New 

entures of a 
ted romance 
geat city, in 
of near 100 

• 25 cts. 

its which 
ON M. Cur- 
ve of a mys- 
mto all sorts 
laker, to the 

a 

25 cts. 

try of life 
ve no homes 
ry boys, etc. 

25 cts. 

lis excit- 

tropolis. It 
ctim of vice, 
117 pages of 

25 cts. 

ce, Guilt, 

is narrative 
to incidents 

25 ctg. 

ife in all 
iat gives an 

25 cts- 


Grace " 


ory about 


the Sew mu uius ui j_>ua wjii. jl- un ui iuu nuu au.cuiwc. auj person who 
desires to read a lively story should not fail to get this work. 

Price 25 Cts. 


Chips from TTncle Sam’s Jack-knife. Illustrated with over 

100 Comical Engravings, and comprising a collection of over 500 Laughable 
Stories, Funny Adventures, Comic Poetry, Queer Conundrums, Terrific 
Puns, Witty Sayings, Sublime Jokes and Sentimental Sentences. The 
whole being a most perfect portfolio for those who love to laugh. 

Large octavo. Priee 25 Cts 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Barton’s Comic Recitations and Humorous Dialogues. 

Containing a variety ot Comic Recitations in Prose and Poetry, Amusing 
Dialogues, Burlesque Scenes, Eccentric Orations and Stump Speeches, Hu- 
morous Interludes and Laughable Earces, designed for School Commence- 
ments and Amateur Theatricals. Edited by Jerome Barton. 


180 pages, paper. Price 30 c tg. 

Boards 50 c ts. 


Brudder Bones’ Book of Stump Speeches and Burlesque 

Orations. Also containing Humorous Lectures, Ethiopian Dialogues, Plan- 
tation Scenes, N egro Farces and Burlesques, Laughable Interludes and Com- 
ic Recitations, interspersed with Dutch, Irish, French and Yankee Stories. 


Edited by John F. Scott. Paper covers. Price 80 cts. 

Bound in boards, illuminated. 50 cts! 


Wilson’s Book of Recitations and Dialogues. With In- 
structions in Elocution and Declamation. Containing a choice selection of 
Poetical and Prose Recitations and Original Colloquies. Designed as a 
Reading Book for Classes, and as an Assistant to Teachers and Students in 
preparing Exhibitions. By Floyd B. Wilson, Professor of Elocution. 


186 pages, 16mo., paper covers. Price SO cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 


Spencer’s Book of Comic Speeches and Humorous Reci- 

tions- A collection of Comic Speeches and Dialogues, Humorous Prose and 
Poetical Recitations, Laughable Dramatic Scenes and Burlesques, and Ec- 
centric Characteristic Soliloquies and Stories. Suitable for School Exhibi- 
tions and Evening Entertainments. Edited by Albert J. Spencer. 


192 pages, 18mo., paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 


Frost’s Dialogues for Young Folks. A collection of Orig- 
inal Moral and Humorous Dialogues. Adapted to the use of School and 
Church Exhibitions, Family Gatherings, and Juvenile Celebrations. By 
S. A. Frost, author of “ The Parlor Stage.” Paper covers. Price... 30 cts. 
Bound in boards, cloth back, side in colors 50 cts- 

Amateur Theatricals, and Fairy-Tale Dramas. A collec- 
tion of Original Plays, expressly designed for Drawing-room performance. 
By S. A. Frost. This work is designed to meet a want, which has been long 
felt, of short and amusing pieces suitable to the limited stage of the private 

S ii-lor. 16mo., 188 pages, paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

oards, cloth back 50 cts- 

Parlor Theatricals ; or, Winter Evenings’ Entertainment. A 

collection of Dramatic Amusements and Comic Plays. Illustrated with 

cuts and diagrams. Paper covers. Price 30 cts- 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 CtS- 

The Parlor Stage. A collection of Drawing-Room Pro- 
verbs, Charades and Tableaux Yivants. By Miss S. A. Frost. These plays 
are intended solely for performance by a small party of friends, in priyat® 
parlors, and require but little trouble or expense to render them effective. 
368 pages, small octavo, cloth, gilt side and back. Price Si 50 

Frost’s Book Of Tableaux. Containing 160 Tableaux 

Yivants, with directions for arranging the stage, costuming the characters, 
and forming appropriate groups. By S. Annie Frost, author of “ The 
Parlor Stage, “Amateur Theatricals,” etc. To those who desire to get up 
an evening’s entertainment, this book will prove an invaluable assistant. 


Paper covers. Price .30 cts- 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 fits 


P&pnlar Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Day’s American Eeady-Eeckoner. Containing Tables for 

rapid calculation of aggregate values, wages, salaries, board, interest 
money, etc. Also, tables of timber, plank, board and log measurements, 
with full explanations how to measure them, either by the square foot, 
(board measure), or cubic foot, (timber measure.) All the tables are origi- 
nal and reliable. 

Bound in boards. Price 50 cts. 

Bound in cloth, gilt side and back 75 CtS, 

Bound in leather tucks (pocket-book style) gjl 00 

Brisbane’s Golden Eeady-Eeckoner ; or, Lightning Calcula- 
tor. A valuable assistant to Farmers, Traders and Housekeepers, in buy- 
ing or selling all kinds of commodities. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 35 cts. 

Erost’s Original Letter- Writer. A complete collection of 

Original Letters and Notes, upon every imaginable subject of Every-Day 
Life, embracing 300 Letters and Notes. To which is added a Comprehensive 
Table of Synonyms. By S. A. Frost, author of “ The Parlor Stage.” 

202 pages, boards, cloth back, side in colors. Price 50 cts. 

North’s Book of Love Letters, With directions bow to 

write and when to use them, and 120 specimen Letters, suitable for Lovers 
of any age and condition, and under all circumstances. By IngoldsbY 

North. Bound in cloth. Price 75 Cts. 

Bound in boards 50 cts. 


Hillgrove’s Ball-Eoom Guide and Complete Dancing Mas- 
ter- With easy directions for calling out the figures of any dance. Illus- 
trated with 17G descriptive engravings and diagrams. By Thos. Hillgrove, 

Prolessor of Dancing. Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 75 cts. 

Bound in cloth, gilt sides g>l 00 


The Young Eeporter; or, IIow to Write Short -Hand. A 

Complete Phonographic Teacher, intended as a School-Book, to afford thor- 
ough instructions to those who have not the assistance of an Oral Teacher. 
By the aid of this work, any person of most ordinary intelligence may learn 
to write Short-Hand, and report Speeches and Sermons, in a short time. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back. Prico..,. 50 cts- 


Martine’s Sensible Letter- Writer. Containing 300 Sensi- 

ble Letters and Notes on the simple' it matters of life, adapted to all ages 
and conditions. Model Letters on any subject may be found in this book. 


By Arthur Martine. 

207 pages. Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 ctS. 

Cloth, gilt side and back 75 Cts. 


Martine’s Hand-Book of Etiquette and Guide to True 

Politeness. A complete Manual for all those who desire to understand 
good breeding, the customs of good society, and to avoid incorrect and vul- 
gar habits. By Arthur Martine. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 cts. 

Cloth, gilt side and back 75 eta, 

Martine’s Letter- Writer and Book of Etiquette Combined. 

Being both of the above books printed on fine paper and bound in one vol- 
ume. Cloth, gilt. Price SI 50 

The Perfect Gentleman. A Book of American Etiquette. 

Containing Model Speeches for all occasions, with directions how to deliver 
them. Table Wit and Con vernation, etc. 12mo., cloth. Pric-e. SI 50 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


The Book of 1,000 Comical Stories ; or, Endless Repast of 

Fun. A rich banquet for every day in the year, with several courses and a 
dessert. BILL OF FARE Comprising Tales of Humor, Laughable An- 
ecdotes, Irresistible Drolleries, Jovial Jokes, Comical Conceits, Puns and 
Pickings, Quibbles and Queries, Bon Mots and Broadgrins, Oddities, Epi- 
grams, etc. Appropriately Illustrated with 300 Comic Engravings. By 
the author of “ Mrs. Partington’s Carpet-bag of Fun.” 

Large 12mo., cloth. Price SI 50 

$£rs. Partington’s Carpet-bag of Fun. A collection of 

over one thousand of the most Comical Stories, Amusing Adventures, Side- 
splitting Jokes, Cheek-extending Poetry, Funny Conundrums, QUEER 
SAYINGS OF MRS. PARTINGTON, Heart-rending Puns, Witty Repar- 
tees, etc. The whole illustrated by about 150 comic wood-cuts. 


12mo., 300 pages, cloth, gilt. Price.. .$1 28 

Ornamented paper covers 75 Cts. 


Mow to Behave ; or, The Spirit of Etiquette . A Complete 

Guide to Polite Society, for Ladies and Gentlemen ; containing rules for 
good behavior at the dinner table, in the parlor, and in the street ; with 
important hints on introduction, conversation, etc. 

Price 12 cts. 

Dr. Valentine’s Comic Metamorphoses. Being the second 

series of Dr. Valentine’s Lectures, with Characters, as given by the lata 
Yankee Hill. Embellished with numerous portraits. 

Ornamental paper cover. Price 75 cts. 

Cloth, gilt SI 25 

Broad Grins of the Laughing Philosopher. Being a Col- 
lection of Funny Jokes, Droll Incidents, and Ludicrous pictures. By 
Pickle the Younger. This book is really a good one. It is full of the 
drollest incidents imaginable, interspersed with good jokes, quaint sayings, 
and funny pictures. Price 13 cts. 

The Knapsack Full of Fun ; or, One Thousand Rations of 

Laughter. Illustrated with over 500 comical Engravings, and containing 
over one thousand Jokes and Funny Stories. By Doesticks and other 
witty writers. Large quarto. Price 80 Cts. 

The Plate of Chowder ; A Dish for Funny Fellows. Appro- 
priately illustrated with 100 Comic Engravings. By the author of “Mrs. 
Partington’s Carpet-bag of Fun.” 

12mo., paper cover. Price 25 cts. 

How to Talk and Debate; or, Fluency of Speech Attained 

without the Sacrifice of Elegance and Sense. 

Price 12 cts. 

How to Dress with Taste. Containing Hints on the har- 
mony of colors, the theory of contrast, the complexion, shape or height. 
Price 12 ctS 1 

Mow to Cut and Contrive Children’s Clothes at a Small 

Cost. With numerous and explanatory engravings. Price 12 cts 

The Young Housekeeper’s Book ; or, How to Have a Good 

Living upon a Small Income. Price 12 cts. 

The Chairman and Speaker’s Guide ; or. Rules for the Or* 

derly Conduct cf Public Meetings, Price. 12 ctf 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


The Modern Pocket Hoyle. Containing all the Games of 

Skill and Chance, as played in this country at the present time ; being “An 
authority on all disputed points.” By “ Trumps.” This valuable manual 
is all original, or thoroughly revised from the best and latest authorities, 
and includes the laws and complete directions for playing one hundred and 
eleven different Games — comprising Card Games, Chess, Checkers, Domi- 
noes, Backgammon, Dice, Billiards, and all the Field Games. 


16mo., 388 pages, paper covers. Price 50 cts. 

Boards 75 cts. 

Cloth, gilt sides $1 25 


Jdarey and Knowlson’s Complete Horse-Tamer and Farrier. 

A new and improved edition, containing Mr. Rarey’s whole Secret of Sub- 
duing and Breaking Vicious Horses, together with his Improved Plan ot 
Managing Young Colts, and breaking them to the Saddle, the Harness and 
the Sulkey. Also, The Complete Farrier ; or, Horse Doctor ; a Guide far 
the Treatment of Horses in all Diseases to which that noble animal is liable, 
being the result of fifty years’ extensive practice of the author, John C. 
Knowlson. Illustrated with descriptive Engravings. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 cts- 

“Trumps’” American Hoyle; or, Gentleman’s Hand-Book of 

Games. Containing clear and complete descriptions of all the Games played 
in the U nited States, with the American Rules for playing them. The whole 
contains 525 pages, is printed on fine white papci’, bound in cloth, with 
beveled edges, and is profusely illustrated with engravings explaining the 


different Games. 

Price CO 00 

Half calf, marble edges 4CJ 


Spayth’s Draughts or Checkers for Beginners, Being a 

comprehensive Guide for those who desire to learn the Game. This treatise 
was written by Henry Spayth, the celebrated player, and is by far the 
most complete and instructive elementally work on Draughts ever published. 
Small octavo, cloth. Price 75 cts. 

The Game of Draughts or Checkers, Simplified and Ex- 
plained. "With Practical Diagrams and Illustrations, together with a 
Checker-board, numbered and printed in red. Containing the eighteen 
standard games, with over 200 of the best valuations. By D. Scatter good. 
Bound in cloth, with flexible cover. Price 50 eta. 

Marache’s Manual of Chess. Containing Preliminary 

Games for Beginners, fifty Openings of Games, giving all the latest discov- 
eries of modern masters, with best Games and Copious Notes, Endings of 
Games, Problems, Diagrams, etc. By N. Marache. 


Cloth, gilt side. Price 75 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts- 


Duncan’s Masonic Ritual and Monitor; or, Guide to the 

Three Symbolic Degrees of the Ancient York Rite. And to the Degrees of 
Mark Master, Past Master, Most Excellent Master, and the Royal Arch. 
Containing all the Lectures, etc. By Malcolm C. Duncan. 

Bound in cloth. Price S2 50 

Leather tucks (pocket-book style) with colored edges 8 00 

Richardson’s Monitor of Freemasonry. A Complete Guide 

to the various Ceremonies and Routine in Freemasons’ Lodges, Chapters, 
Encampments, Hierarchies, etc. 

Paper covers. Price 7!> cts. 

Cloth, gilt .......,,. SI 25 


/ 



RECITATIONS. 


COMIC, SERIOUS, AND PATHETIC. 


EDITED BY 

CLARENCE J. HOWARD, 

AUTHOR OK 

“Howard's Dr -awing Room Theatricals , ” Howard's Book of Conundrums ,” e£-c. 


NEW YORK: 

DICK & FITZGERALD, PUBLISHERS, 

18 Ann Street. 

3 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year ]872, by 
DICK <fc FITZGERALD, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 


jfr * 

Transfer 

Engineers School Lib,. 

June 29 , 193 : 


CONTENTS 


PAGE. 

Preface 5 

Miss Malony on thb Chinese Question 7 

Kit Carson’s Ride... % 10 

Bock Fanshaw’s Funeral 14 

Knocked About 21 

The Puzzled Dutchman 22 

Shamus O’Brien 24 

The Naughty Little Girl 30 

The Bells of Shandon : 33 

No Sect in Heaven 35 

Rory O’More’s Present to the Priest 38 

“Mother’s Fool” 44 

Queen Elizabeth 46 

The Starling 48 

Lord Dundreary’s Riddle 50 

The Stuttering Lass 54 

The Irish Traveler -55 

The Remedy as Bad as the Disease ;... 55 

A Subject for Dissection 56 

The Heathen Chinee 57 

Mona’s Waters 59 

A Showman on the Woodchuck 63 

How Happy I’ll Be 64 

A Frenchman’s Account of the Fall 65 

Isabel’s Grave 66 

The Parson and the Spaniel 67 

An Irishman’s Letter 69 

An Affectionate Letter 71 

r The Halibut in Love 72 

The Merry Soap-Boiler 74 

The Unbeliever 77 

The Voices at the Throne 78 

Lord Dundreary Proposing 79 

The Fireman 86 

Paul Revere’s Ride 87 

Annie and Willie’s Prayer 91 

A Frenchman on Macbeth 94 

0 


4 


/ 


CONTENTS. 


PAOK. 


The New Church Organ 95 

Katrina Likes me Poody Vell 98 

How to Save a Thousand Pounds 99 

How I got Invited to Dinner 102 

Patient Joe 104 

Jimmy Butler and the Owl 106 

The Menagerie 110 

Old Quizzle 112 

The Infidel and Quaker 114 

The Lawyer and the Chimney-Sweeper 115 

Bill Mason’s Bride 116 

Judging by Appearances 117 

The Death’s Head v 118 

Betsey and I are Out 121 

Betsey Destroys the Paper 124 

Father Blake’s Collection 127 

Blank Verse in Rhyme 137 

Roguery Taught by Confession 138 

Banty Tim 139 

Antony and Cleopatra 141 

Deacon Hezekiah 142 

The Frenchman and the Landlord 143 

The Family Quarrel 145 

The Guess 148 

The Atheist and Acorn 149 

Brother Watkins 150 

Hans in a Fix 151 

To-Morrow 152 

The Highgate Butcher 153 

The Lucky Call 154 

Challenging the Foreman 155 

The Country Schoolmaster 155 

The Matrimonial Bugs and the Travelers 156 

Peter Sorghum in Love 158 

Tim Tuff 160 

The Romance of Kick Van Stann 162 

The Debating Society 165 

Deacon Stokes 168 

A Tribute to our Honored Dead 171 

The Dying Soldier 173 

The Yankee Fireside 174 

The Suicidal Cat 178 

The Son’s Wish 180 


PREFACE. 


In compiling the present little volume, the editor has endea- 
vored to cater for every variety of taste, and to embody in one 
collection a selection of prose and poetical recitations suitable for 
all times and occasions. In selecting from the various sources at 
his command, it was deemed advisable to have the humorous 
element predominate, but great care has been taken to intersperse 
throughout the volume a number of serious and pathetic recita- 
tions from the pens of the best authors. 






# 




. ■ 


% 














































K 












• ' 











































































































































HOWARD’S RECITATIONS 


MISS MALONY ON THE CHINESE QUESTION. 

A LAUGHABLE RECITATION. anonymous. 

Och! don’t be talkin’. Is it howld on, ye say? An’ 
didn’t I howld on till the heart of me was clane broke en- 
tirely, and me wastin’ that thin you could clutch me wid 
yer two hands. To think o’ me toilin’ like a nager for the 
six year I’ve been in Ameriky — bad luck to the day I iver 
left the owld counthry, to be bate by the likes o’ them ! 
(faix an’ I’ll sit down when I’m ready, so I will, Ann Ryan, 
an’ ye’d better be listnin’ than drawin’ your remarks) an’ it’s 
mysel, with five good characters from respectable places, 
would be herdin’ wid the haythens? The saints forgive 
me but I’d be buried alive soon’n put up wid it a day 
longer. Sure an’ I was a granehorn not to be lavin’ at 
’onct when the missus kim into me kitchen wid her per- 
laver about the new waiter-man which was brought out 
from Californy. “ He’ll be here the night,” says she, “ and 
Kitty, it’s meself looks to you to be kind and patient wid 
him, for he’s a furriner,” says she, a kind o’ looking off. 
“Sure an’ it’s little I’ll hinder nor interfare wid him nor any 
other, mum,” says I, a kind o’ stiff, for I minded me how 
these French waiters, wid their paper collars and brass 
rings on their fingers, isn’t company for no gurril brought 
up dacint and honest. Och ! sorra a bit I knew what was 
cornin’ till the missus walked into me kitchen smilin’, and 


8 MISS MALONY ON THE CHINESE QUESTION. 

says kind o’ sheared : “ Here’s Fing Wing, Kitty, an’ you’ll 
have too much sinse to mind his bein’ a little strange.” 
Wid that she shoots the doore; and I, misthrusting if I was 
tidied up sufficient for me fine buy wid his paper collar, 
looks up and — Holy fathers ! may I niver brathe another 
breath, but there stud a rale haythen Chineser a-grinnin’ 
like he’d just come off a tay-box. If you’ll belave me, 
the crayture was that yeller it ’ud sicken you to see him ; 
and sorra stich was on him but a black night-gown over 
his trowsers and the front of his head shaved claner nor 
a copper biler, and a black tail a-hangin down from be- 
hind, wid his two feet stook into the heathenesest shoes you 
ever set eyes on. Och ! but I was up-stairs afore you could 
turn about, a givin’ the missus warnin’ ; an’ only stopt wid 
her by her raisin’ me wages two dollars, and playdin’ wid 
me how it was a Christian’s duty to bear wid haythins and 
taitch ’em all in our power — the saints save us! Well, the 
ways and trials I had wid that Chineser, Ann Ryan, I 
couldn’t be tellin’. Not a blissed thing cud I do but he’d 
be lookin’ on wid his eyes cocked up’ard like two poomp- 
handles, an’ he widdout a speck or a smitch o’ whiskers on 
him, and his finger-nails full a yard long. But it’s dying 
you’d be to see the missus a lamin’ him, and he grinnin an’ 
waggin’ his pig-tail (which was pieced out long wid some 
black stoof, the haythen chate !) and gettin’ into her ways 
wonderful quick, I don’t deny, imitatin’ that sharp, you’d 
be shurprised, and ketchin’ and copyin’ things the best of 
us will do a-hurried wid work, yet don’t want cornin’ to the 
t knowledge of the family — bad luck to him ! 

Is it ate wid him f Arrah, an’ would I be sittin’ wid a 
haythen and he a-atin’ wid drumsticks — yes, an’ atin’ dogs 
an’ cats unknownst to me, I warrant you, which is the 
custom of them Chinesers, till the thought made me that 
sick I could die. An’ didn’t the crayter proffer to help me 
a wake ago come Toosday, an’ me a foldin’ down me cl ana- 
clothes for the ironin’, an’ fill his haythen mouth wid water, 


MISS MALONY ON THE CHINESE QUESTION. 9 

an’ afore I could hinder squrrit it through his teeth stret 
over the best linen table-cloth, and fold it up tight as 
innercent now as a baby, the dirty baste ! But the worrest 
of all was the copyin’ he’d be doin’ till ye’d be dishtracted. 
It’s yerself knows the tinder feet that’s on me since ever 
I’ve bin in this country. Well, owin’ to that, I fell into the 
way o’ slippin’ me shoes off when I’d be settin down to 
pale the praties or the likes o’ that, and, do ye mind, that 
haythin would do the same thing after me whiniver the 
missus set him parin’ apples or tomaterses. The saints in 
heaven couldn’t have made him belave he cud kape the 
shoes on him when he’d be payling anything. 

Did I lave fur that 1 Faix an’ didn’t he get me into 
trouble wid my missus, the haythin f You’re aware yerself 
how the boondles cornin’ in from the grocery often contains 
more ’n ’ll go into anything dacently. So, for that matter, 
I’d now and then take out a sup o’ sugar, or flour, or tay, 
an’ wrap it in paper and put it in me bit of a box tucked 
under the ironin’ blankit the how it cuddent be bodderin’ 
any one. Well, what should it be, but this blessed Sathur- 
day morn the missus was a spakin’ pleasant and respec’ful 
wid me in me kitchen when the grocer boy comes in an’ 
stands fornenst her wid his boondles an’ she motions like 
to Fing Wing (which I never would call him by that name 
nor any other but just haythin), she motions to him, she 
does, for to take the boondles an’ empty out the sugar an’ 
what not where they belongs. If you’ll belave me, Ann 
Ryan, what did that blatherin’ Chineser do but take out a 
sup o’ sugar, an’ a handful o’ tay, an’ a bit o’ chaze right 
afore the missus, wrap them into bits o’ paper, an’ I spache- 
less wid shuprise, an’ he the next minute up wid the 
ironin’ blankit and pullin’ out me box wid a show o’ bein’ 
sly to put them in. Och, the Lord forgive me, but I 
clutched it, and the misus sayin’, “0 Kitty!” in a way that 
’ud curdle your blood. “He’s a haythin nager,” says I. 
“I’ve found you out,” says she. “I’ll arrist him,” says I. 


10 


KIT CARSON’S RIDE. 


11 It’s you ought to be arristed,” says she. 11 You won’t,” 
says I. “I will,” says she ; and so it went till she give me 
such sass as I cuddent take from no lady, an’ I give her 
warnin’ an’ left that instant, an’ she a-pointin’ to the doore. 


KIT CARSON’S RIDE. 

JOAQUIN MILLVK. 

Run 1 Now you bet you ; I rather guess so. 

But he’s blind as a badger. Whoa, Pach6, boy, whoa. 

No, you wouldn’t think so to look at his eyes, 

But he is badger blind, and it happened this wise : 

We lay low in the grass on the broad plain levels, 

Old Revels and I, and my stolen brown bride. 

“ Forty full miles if a foot to ride, 

Forty full miles if a foot, and the devils 
Of red Camanches are hot on the track 
When once they strike it. Let the sun go down 
Soon, very soon,” muttered bearded old Revels, 

As he peered at the sun lying low on his back, 

Holding fast to his lasso ; then he jerked at his steed, 

And sprang to his feet, and glanced swiftly around, 

And then dropped, as if shot, with his ear to the ground — 
Then again to his feet and to me, to my bride, 

While his eyes were like fire, his face like a shroud, 

His form like a king, and his beard like a cloud, 

And his voice loud and shrill, as if blown from a reed — 

“ Pull, pull in your lassos, and bridle to steed, 

And speed, if ever for life you would speed ; 

And ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride, 

For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire ; 

And feet of wild horses hard flying before, 

I hear like a sea breaking high on the shore ; 

While the buffalo come like the surge of the sea, 

Driven far by the flame, driving fast on us three 
As a hurricane comes, crushing palms in his ire.” 


KIT CARSON’S RIDE. 


11 


"We drew in the lassos, seized saddle and rein, 

Threw them on, sinched them on, sinched them over again, 
And again drew the girth, cast aside the macheer, 

Cut away tapidaros, loosed the sash from its fold, 

Cast aside the catenas red and spangled with gold, 

And gold-mounted Colt’s, true companions for years ; 

Cast the red silk serapes to the wind in a breath, 

And so bared to the skin sprang all haste to the horse, 

As bare as when born, as when new from the hand 
Of God, without word, or one word of command, 

Turned head to the Brazos in a red race with death, 

Turned head to the Brazos with a breath in the hair 
Blowing hot from a king leaving death in his course ; 
Turned head to the Brazos with a sound in the air 
Like the rush of an army, and a flash in the eye 
Of a red wall of fire reaching up to the sky, 

Stretching fierce in pursuit of a black rolling sea 
Rushing fast upon us as the wind sweeping free 
And afar from the desert, bearing death and despair. 

Rot a word, not a wail from a lip was let fall, 

R ot a kiss from my bride, not a look or low call 
Of love-note or courage, but on o’er the plain 
So steady and still, leaning low to the mane, 

With the heel to the flank and the hand to the rein, 

Rode we on, rode we three, rode we gray nose and nose, 
Reaching long, breathing loud, like a creviced wind blows ; 
Yet we broke not a whisper, we breathed not a prayer, 
There was work to be done, there was death in the air, 
And the chance was as one to a thousand for all. 

Gray nose to gray nose and each steady mustang 
Stretched neck and stretched nerve till the hollow earth 
rang, 

And the foam from the flank and the croup and the neck 
Flew around like the spray on a storm-driven deck. 
Twenty miles ! thirty miles ! — a dim distant speck — 

Then a long reaching line, and the Brazos in sight, 

And I rose in my seat with a shout of delight. 

I stood in my stirrup and looked to my right, 


12 


KIT CARSON’S RIDE. 


But Revels was gone ; I glanced by my shoulder 
And saw his horse stagger ; I saw his head drooping 
Hard on his breast, and his naked breast stooping 
Low down to the mane as so swifter and bolder 
Ran reaching out for us the red-footed fire. 

To right and to left the black buffalo came, 

In miles and in millions, rolling on in despair, 

'With their beards to the dust and black tails in the air. 

As a terrible surf on a red sea of flame 

Rushing on in the rear, reaching high, reaching higher; 

And he rode neck to neck to a buffalo bull, 

The monarch of millions, with shaggy mane full 
Of smoke and of dust, and it shook with desire 
Of battle, with rage and with bellowings loud 
And unearthly, and up through its lowering cloud 
Came the flash of his eyes like a half-hidden fire, 

While his keen crooked horns through the storm of his 
mane 

Like black lances lifted and lifted again ; 

And I looked but this once, for the fire licked through, 
And he fell and was lost, as we rode two and two. 

I looked to my left, then, and nose, neck, and shoulder 
Sank slowly, sank surely, till back to my thighs ; 

And up through the black blowing veil of her hair 
Did beam full in mine her two marvelous eyes 
With a longing and love, yet a look of despair, 

And a pity for me, as she felt the smoke fold her, 

And flames reaching far for her glorious hair. 

Her sinking steed faltered, his eager ears fell 
To and fro and unsteady, and all the neck’s swell 
Did subside and recede and the nerves fall as dead. 

Then she saw that my own steed still lorded his head 
With a look of delight, for this Pache, you see, 

Was her father’s, and once at the South Santa Fe 
Had won a whole herd, sweeping everything down 
In a race where the world came to run for the crown; 

And so when I won the true heart of my bride — 

Hy neighbor’s and deadliest enemy’s child, 


KIT CARSON’S RIDE. 


13 


And child of the lringty war-chief of his tribe — 

She brought me this steed to the border the night 
She met Revels and me in her perilous flight 
Prom the lodge of the chief to the north Brazos side ; 

And said, so half guessing of ill as she smiled, 

As if jesting, that I, and I only, should ride 

The fleet-footed Pach6, so if kin should pursue 

I should surely escape without other ado 

Than to ride, without blood, to the north Brazos side, 

And await her, and wait till the next hollow moon 
Hung her horn in the palms, when surely and soon 
And swift she would join me, and all would be well 
"Without bloodshed or word. And now, as she fell 
From the front, and went down in the ocean of fire, 

The last that I saw was a look of delight 
That I should escape — a love — a desire — 

Yet never a word, not a look of appeal, 

Lest I should reach hand, should stay hand or stay heel 
One instant for her in my terrible flight. 

Then the rushing of fire rose around me and under, 

And the howling of beasts like the sound of thunder — 
Beasts burning and blind and forced onward and over, 

As the passionate flame reached around them and wove 
her 

Hands in their hair, and kissed hot till they died — 

Till they died with a wild and a desolate moan, 

As a sea heart-broken on the hard brown stone. 

And into the Brazos — I rode all alone — 

All alone, save only a horse long-limbed, 

And blind and bare and burnt to the skin. 

Then, just as the terrible sea came in 
And tumbled its thousands hot into the tide, 

Till the tide blocked up and the swift stream brimmed 
In eddies, we struck on the opposite side. 

Sell Pache, — blind Pache? How, mister, look here, 

You have slept in my tent and partook of my cheer 
Many days, many days, on this rugged frontier, 

For the ways they were rough and Camanches were 
near ; 


14 


BUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 


But you’d better pack up ! Curse your dirty skin ! 

I couldn’t have thought you so niggardly small. 

Do you men that make boots think an old mountaineer 
On the rough border born has no turn- turn at all ? 
SellPache? You buy him! A bag full of gold ! 

You show him ! Tell of him the tale I have told ! 

"Why, he bore me through fire, and is blind, and is old ! 
Now pack up your papers and get up and spin, 

And never look back. Blast you and your tin ! 


BUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 

A LUDICROUS RECITATION. mahk twaik. 

There was a grand time over Buck Fanshaw when he 
died. He was a representative citizen. He had “killed 
his man ” — not in his own quarrel, to be sure, hut in de- 
fence of a stranger beset by numbers. He had kept a 
sumptuous saloon. He had been the proprietor of a dashing 
helpmeet, whom he could have discarded without the form- 
ality of a divorce. He had held a high position in the fire 
department, and had been a very Warwick in politics. 
When he died there was great lamentation throughout the 
town, but especially in the vast bottom stratum of society. 

On the inquest it was shown that Buck Fanshaw, in the 
delirium of a wasting typhoid fever, had taken arsenic, 
shot himself through the body, cut his throat, and jumped 
out of a four-story window and broken his neck, and after 
due deliberation, the jury, sad and tearful, but with intel- 
ligence unblinded by its sorrow, brought in a verdict of 
death “by the visitation of God.” What could the world 
do without juries? 

Prodigious preparations were made for the funeral. 
All the vehicles in town were hired, all the saloons were 
put in mourning, all the municipal and fire company flags 


BUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 


J5 


were hung at half-mast, and all the firemen ordered to 
muster in uniform and bring their machines duly draped 
in black. 

Regretful resolutions were passed and various commit- 
tees appointed ; among others, a committee of one was ap- 
pointed to call on a minister — a fragile, gentle, spiritual 
new fledgling from an eastern theological seminary, and 
as yet unacquainted with the ways of the mines. The com- 
mittee-man, “ Scotty” Briggs, made his visit. 

Being admitted to his presence, he sat down before 
the clergyman, placed his fire-hat on an unfinished manu- 
script sermon under the minister’s nose, took from it a 
red silk handkerchief, wiped his brow, and heaved a sigh 
of dismal impressiveness explanatory of his business. He 
choked and even shed tears, but with an effort he mastered 
his voice, and said, in lugubrious tones : 

“Are you the duck that runs the gospel -mill next door ?” 

“Am I the — pardon me, I believe I do not understand.” 

With another sigh and a half sob Scotty rejoined : 

“Why, you see we are in a bit of trouble, and the boys 
thought may be you’d give us a lift, if we’d tackle you, that 
is, if I’ve got the rights of it, and you’re the head clerk of the 
doxology works next door.” 

“ I am the shepherd in charge of the flock whose fold is 
next door.” 

“The which?” 

“ The spiritual adviser of the little company of believers 
whose sanctuary adjoins these premises.” 

Scotty scratched his head, reflected a moment, and then 
said: 

“You rather hold over me, pard. I reckon I can’t call 
that card. Ante and pass the buck.” 

“How? I beg your pardon: What did I understand 
you to say ?” 

“Well, you’ve rather got the bulge on me. Or may be 
we’ve both got the bulge, somehow. You don’t smoke mo 


1C) 


BUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 


and I don’t smoke you. You see one of the boys has passed 
in his checks, and we want to give him" a good send-off, and 
so the thing I’m on now is to rout out somebody to jerk a 
little chin -music for us, and waltz him through handsome.” 

“Hy friend, I seem to grow more and more bewilder- 
ed. Your observations are wholly incomprehensible to me. 
Cannot you simplify them some way ? At first I thought 
perhaps I understood you, but now I grope. Would it not 
expedite matters if you restricted yourself to categorical 
statements of fact unincumbered with obstructing accu- 
mulations of metaphor and allegory?” 

Another pause and more reflection. Then Scotty said : 

“ I’ll have to pass, I judge.” 

“How?” 

“ You’ve raised me out, pard.” 

“ I still fail to catch your meaning.” 

“ Why, that last lead of yourn is too many for me — that’s 
the idea. I can’t neither trump nor follow suit.” 

The clergyman sank back in his chair perplexed. Scotty 
leaned his head on his hand, and gave himself up to reflec- 
tion. Presently his face came up, sorrowful, but confident. 

“ I’ve got it now, so’s you can savvy,” said he. “ What 
we want is a gospel-sharp. See ?” 

“A what ?” 

“ Gospel-sharp, parson.” 

“ 0 ! Why did you not say so before ? I am a clergy- 
man — a parson.” 

“Now you talk ! You see my blind, and straddle it like 
a man. Put it there !” — extending a brawny paw, which 
closed over the minister’s small hand and gave it a shake 
indicative of fraternal sympathy and fervent gratification. 

“ Now we’re all right, pard. Let’s start fresh. Don’t 
you mind me snuffling a ‘little, becuz we’re in a power of 
trouble. You see one of the boys has gone up the flume — ” 

“ Gone where ?” 

“Up the flume — throw’d up the sponge, you know.” 


BUCK EANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 


17 


“ Thrown up the sponge ?” 

“Yes — kicked the bucket — ” 

“Ah — has departed to that mysterious country from 
whose bourne no traveler returns.” 

“ Return ? Well, I reckon not. Why, pard, he’s dead /” 

“ Yes, I understand.” 

“0, you do? Well, I thought may be you might be 
getting tangled once more. Yes, you see he’s dead again — ” 

“ Again ! Why, has he ever been dead before ?” 

“ Dead before ? No. Do you reckon a man has got as 
many lives as a cat? But you bet he’s awful dead now, 
poor old boy, and I wish I’d never seen this day. I don’t 
know no better friend than Buck Fanshaw. I know’d him 
by the back ; and when I know a man like him I freeze to 
him — you hear me. Take him all around, pard, there nev- 
er was a bullier man in the mines. No man ever know’d 
Buck Fanshaw to go back on a friend. But it’s all up, you 
know ; it’s all up. It ain’t no use. They’ve scooped him !” 

“ Scooped him?” 

“ Yes — death has. Well, well, well, we’ve got to give 
him up. Yes, indeed. It’s a kind of hard world after all, 
ain’t it ? But, pard, he was a rustler. You ought to see him 
get started once. He was a bully boy with a glass eye ! 
Just spit in his face, and give him room according to his 
strength, and it was just beautiful to see him peel and go 
in. He was the worst son of a thief that ever draw’d breath. 
Pard, he was on it. He was on it bigger than an Injun !” 

“On it? On what?” 

“On the shoot. On the shoulder. On the fight. Un- 
derstand ? He didn’t give a continental — for anybody. 
Beg your pardon, friend, for coming so near saying a cuss 
word — but you see I’m on an awful strain in this palaver, 
on account of having to cram down and draw everything 
so mild. But we’ve got to give him up. There ain’t any 
getting around that, I don’t reckon. Now,, if we can’t get 
you to help plant him- “ 


18 


BUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 


“ Preach the funeral discourse ? Assist at the obsequies V’ 

“Obs’quiesis good. Yes. That’s it; that’s our little 
game. We are going to get up the thing regardless, you 
know. He was always nifty himself, and so you bet you 
his funeral ain’t going to be no slouch ; solid silver door- 
plate on his cofi&n, six plumes on the hearse, and a nigger 
on the box with a biled shirt and a plug hat on — how’s that 
for high I And we’ll take care of you, pard. We’ll fix 
you all right. There will be a kerridge for you ; and what- 
ever you want you just ’scape out and we’ll tend to it. 
We’ve got a shebang fixed up for you to stand behind in 
No. One’s house, and don’t you be afraid. Just go in and 
toot your horn, if you don’t sell a clam. Put Buck through 
as bully as you can, pard, for anybody that know’d him 
will tell you that he was one of the whitest men that was 
ever in the mines. You can’t draw it too strong. He 
never could stand it to see things going wrong. He’s done 
more to make this town peaceable than any man in it. 
I’ve seen him lick four greasers in eleven minutes, myself. 
If a thing wanted regulating, he warn’t a man to go brows- 
ing around after somebody to do it, but he would prance in 
and regulate it himself. He warn’t a Catholic; but it 
didn’t make no difference about that when it came down 
to what man’s right was — and so, when some roughs jump- 
ed the Catholic bonevard and started to stake out town 
lots in it, he went for ’em, and he cleaned ’em, too ! I was 
there, and seen it myself.” 

“That was very well, indeed— at least the impulse 
was — whether the act was entirely defensible or not. Had 
deceased any religious convictions ? That is to say, did he 
feel a dependence upon, or acknowledge any allegiance to 
a higher power ?” 

More reflection. 

“ I reckon you’ve stumped me again, pard. Could you 
say it over once more, and say it slow f” 

“Well, to simplify it somewhat, was he, or rather had 


JiUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 


19 


he ever been connected with any organization sequestered 
from secular concerns and devoted to self-sacrifice in the 
interests of morality V 7 

“ All down hut nine — set ’em up on the other alley, 
pard.” 

“ What did I understand you to say V 7 

“ Why, you’re most too many for me, you know. When 
you get in with your left, I hunt grass every time. Every 
time you draw, you fill ; hut I don’t seem to have any luck. 
Let’s have a new deal.” 

“ How? Begin again t” 

“ That’s it.” 

“ Very well. Was he a good man, and — ” 

“There — I see that; don’t put up another chip till I 
look at my hand. A good man, says you ? Pard, it ain’t 
no name for it. He was the best man that ever — pard, you 
would have doted on that man. He could lam any galoot 
of his inches in America. It was him that put down the 
riot last election before it got a start; and everybody said 
that he was the only man that could have done it. Ho 
waltzed in with a trumpet in one hand and a spanner in 
the other, sent fourteen men home on a shutter in less 
than three minutes. He had the riot all broke up and pre- 
vented nice before anybody had a chance to strike a blow. 
He was always in for peace, and ho would have peace — 
he could not stand disturbances. Pard, he was a great 
loss to this town. It would please the boys if you could 
chip in something like that and do him justice. Here once 
when the Micks got to throwing stones through the Meth- 
odist' Sunday-school windows, Buck Fanshaw, all of his 
own notion, shut up his saloon, and took a couple of six- 
shooters and mounted guard over the Sunday-school. Says 
he, ‘No Irish need apply!’ And they didn’t. He was 
the bulliest man in the mountains, pard; he could run 
faster, jump higher, hit harder, and hold more tangle-foot 
whiskey without spilling than any man in seventeen conn- 


20 


BUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 


ties. Put that in, pard ; it’ll please the hoys more than 
anything you could say. And you can say, pard, that he 
never shook his mother.” 

“ Never shook his mother V’ 

“ That’s it — any of the hoys will tell you so.” 

“Well, hut why should he shake her ?” 

“ That’s what I say — but some people does.” 

“Not people of any repute t” 

“ Well, some that averages pretty so-so.” 

“ In my opinion, a man that would offer personal-vio- 
lence to his mother, ought to — ” 

“ Cheese it, pard ; you’ve banked your ball clean outside 
the string. What I was a-drivin at was that ho never 
throwed off his mother — don’t you see ? No, indeedy ! Ho 
gave her a house to live in, and town lots, and plenty of 
money ; and he looked after her and took care of her all 
the time ; and when she was down with tho small-pox, I’m 
damned if ho didn’t set up nights and nuss her himself ! 
Beg your pardon for saying it, but it hopped out too quick 
for yours truly. You’ve treated me like a gentleman , and 
I ain’t tho man to hurt your feelings intentional. I think 
you’re white. I think you’re a square man, pard. I like 
you, and I’ll lick any man that don’t. I’ll lick him till 
he can’t tell himself from a last year’s corpse ! Put it there!” 

[Another fraternal handshake — and exit.] 

The obsequies were all that “ tho boys” could desire. 
Such funeral pomp had never been seen in Virginia. Tho 
plumed hearse, the dirge-breathing brass bands, tho closed 
marts of business, the flags drooping at half-mast, tho 
long plodding procession of uniformed secret societies, mil- 
itary battalions and fire companies, craped engines, car- 
riages of officials and citizens in vehicles and on foot, attract- 
ed multitudes of spectators to tho sidewalks, roofs and 
windows ; and for years afterward, the degree of grandeur 
attained by any civic display was determined by comparison 
with Buck Fanshaw’s funeral. 


KNOCKED ABOUT. 


21 


KNOCKED ABOUT. 

« DANIEL CONNOLLY. 

Why don’t I work ? Well, sir, will you, 

Bight hore on the spot, give me suthin’ to do ? 

Work? Why, sir, I don't want no more 
’ N a chance in any man’s shop or store ; 

That’s what I’m lookin’ for every day, 

But thar ain’t no jobs ; well, what d’ ye say ? 

Hain’t got nothin’ at present ! Just so ; 

That’s how it always is, I know ! 

Fellers like me ain’t wanted much ; 

Folks are gen’rally jealous of such ; 

Thinks they ain’t the right sort o’ stuff— 

Blessed if it isn’t a kind o’ rough 
On a man to have folks hintin’ belief 
That he ain’t to be trusted more ’n a thief, 

When p’r’aps his fingers are cleaner far 
’N them o’ chaps that talk so are ! 

Got a look o’ the sea ! Well, I ’xpect that’s so : 

Had a hankerin’ that way some years ago, 

And run off ; I shipped in a whaler fust, 

And got cast away ; but that warn’t the wust ; 

Took fire, sir, next time, we did, and — well, 

We blazed up till everything standin’ fell, 

And then me and Tom — my mate — and some more, 

Got off, with a notion of goin’ ashore. 

But thar warn’t no shore to see round thar, 

So we drifted and drifted everywhar 
For a week, and then all but Tom and mo 
Was food for the sharks or down in the sea. 

But we prayed — me and Tom — the best we could, 

For a sail. It come, and at last we stood 
On old ’arth once more, and the captain told 
Us we was aghore in the land o’ gold. 

Gold ! We didn’t get much. But we struck 
For the mines, of course, and tried our luck. 


22 


THE PUZZLED DUTCHMAN. 


’ T wam’t bad at the start, but things went wrong 
Pooty soon, for one night thar come along, 

While we was asleep, some redskin chaps, 

And they made things lively round thar — perhaps ! 
Anyhow we left mighty quick — Tom and me, 

And we didn’t go back — kind o’ risky, you see ! 

By’m-by, sir, the war come on, and then 
We ’listed. Poor Tom ! I was nigh him when 
It all happened. He looked up and sez, sez he, 

“ Bill, it’s come to partin’ ’twixt you and me, 

Old chap. I hain’t much to leave — here, this knife — 
Stand to your colors, Bill, while you have life ! ” 

That was all. — Yes, got wounded myself, sir, here, 
And — I’m pensioned on water and air a year ! 

It ain’t much to thank for that I’m alive, 

Knockin’ about like this — What, a five ! 

That’s suthin’ han’some, now, that is. I’m blest 
If things don’t quite frequent turn out for the best 
Arterall! AY! Hi! Luck! It’s far more! 

Mister, I kind o’ liked the looks o’ your store. 

You’re a trump, sir, a reg — Eh ? Oh, all right ! 

I’m off, — but you are, sir, a trump, honor bright ! 


THE PUZZLED DUTCHMAN. 

A HUMOROUS RECITATION. akonymodb. 

One who does not believe in immersion for baptism was 
bolding a protracted meeting, and one night preached on 
the subject of baptism. In the course of his remarks ho 
said that some believe it necessary to go down in the wa- 
ter, and come up out of it, to be baptized. But this ho 
claimed to be fallacy, for the preposition “into” of the 
Scriptures should be rendered differently, as it does not 
mean into at all times. “Moses,” he said, “we are told, 
went up into the mountain ; and the Saviour was taken 


THE PUZZLED DUTCHMAN. 


23 


up into a high mountain, etc. Now we do not suppose 
either went into a mountain, but went unto it. So with going 
down into the water ; it means simply going down close by 
or near to the water, and being baptized in the ordinary 
way, by sprinkling or pouring.” He carried this idea out 
fully, and in due season closed his discourse, when an 
invitation was given for any one so disposed to rise and 
express his thoughts. Quite a number of his brethren 
arose and said they were glad they had been present on 
this occasion, that they were well pleased with the sound 
sermon they had just heard, and felt their souls greatly 
blessed. Finally, a corpulent gentleman of Teutonic extrac- 
tion, a stranger to all, arose and broke the silence that 
was almost painful, as follows : 

11 Mister Breacher, I is so glad I vash here to-night, 
for I has had explained to my mint some dings dat I nev- 
er could pelief before. Oh, I is so glad dat into does not 
mean into at all, but shust close py or near to, for now I 
can pelief many dings vot I could not pelief peforc. We 
reat, Mr. Breacher, dat Taniel vos cast into do ten of lions, 
and came out alife. Now I neffer could pelief dat, for 
wilt peasts would shust eat him right off ; but now it is fery 
clear to my mint. Re vash shust close py or near to, and 
tid not get into do ten at all. Oh, I ish so glad I vash here 
to-night. Again wo reat dat de Heprew children vas cast 
into de firish furnace, and dat always look like a beeg story 
too, for they would have been purnt up ; but it ish all 
blain to my mint now, for dey was shust cast py or close 
to de firish furnace. Oh, I vas so glad I vash here to- 
night. And den Mister Breacher, it ish said dat Jonah 
vash cast into de sea, and taken into de whale’s pelly. 
Now I neffer could pelief dat. It alwish seemed to me to 
be a peeg fish story, but it ish all blain to my mint now. 
He vash not into do whale’s pelly at all, but shump onto his 
pack and rode ashore. Oh, I vash so glad I vash here to- 
night. 


24 


SHAMUS O'BRIEN. 


“ And now, Mister Breacher, if you will shust exblain 
two more bassages of Scriptures, I shall be oh so happy 
dat I vas here to-night ! One of dem ish vere it saish do 
vicked shall be cast into a lake dat burns mit fire and 
primstone alwish. Oh, Mister Breacher, shall I be cast 
into dat lake if I am vicked, or shust close py or near to 
— shust near enough to be comfortable '? Oh, I hope you 
tell me I shall be cast only shust py a good veys off, and I 
vill pe so glad I vash here to-night. Do Oder bassage is 
dat vich saish blessed are they who do these command- 
ments, dat dey may have right to de dree of life, and enter 
in droo de gates of de city, and not shust close py or near 
to — shust near enough to see vat I have lost — and I shall 
pe so glad I vash here to night.” 


SHAMUS O'BRIEN. 

A POPULAR RECITATION. j. g. lefand. 

Jist afther the war, in the year '98, 

As soon as the boys wor all scattered and bate, 

' Twas the custom, whenever a pisant was got, 

To hang him by thrial — barrin' sich as was shot. 

There was trial by jury goin' on by daylight, 

And the martial-law hangin’ the lavin's by night. 

It's them was hard times for an honest gossoon ! 

If he missed in the judges — he’d meet a dragoon ; 

An' whether the sodgers or judges gev sentence, 

The divil a much time they allowed for repentance. 

An' it’s many's the fine boy was then on his keepin’ 

Wid small share iv restin', or atin’, or sleepin’, 

An' because they loved Erin, an’ scorned to sell it, 

A prey for the bloodhound, a mark for the bullet, — 
Unsheltered by night and unrested by day, 

'With the heath for their barrack, revenge for their pay; 


SHAM US O’BRIEN. 


25 


An’ the bravest an’ hardiest boy iv them all 
Was Shamus O’Brien, from the town iv Glingall. 

His limbs were well set, an’ his body was light, 

An’ the keen-fanged hound had not teeth half so white ; 
But his face was as pale as the face of the dead, 

And his cheek never warmed with the blush of the red ; 
An’ for all that he wasn’t an ugly young bye, 

For the divil himself couldn’t blaze with his eye, 

So droll an’ so wicked, so dark and so bright, 

Like a fire-flash that crosses the depth of the night ! 

An’ he was the best mower that ever has been, 

An’ the illigantest hurler that ever was seen. 

An’ his dancin’ was sich that the men used to stare, 

An’ the women turn crazy, he done it so quare ; 

An', by gorra, the whole world gev it into him there, 

An’ it’s he was the boy that was hard to be caught, 

An’ it’s often he run, an’ it’s often he fought, 

An’ it’s many the one can remember right well 
The quare things he done : an’ it’s often I heerd tell 
How he lathered the yeomen, himself agin' four, 

An’ stretched the two strongest on old Galtimore. 

But the fox must sleep sometimes, the wild deer must 
rest, 

An’ treachery prey on the blood iv the best ; 

Afther many a brave action of power and pride, 

An’ many a hard night on the mountain’s bleak side, 

An’ a thousand great dangers and toils overpast, 

In the darkness of night he was taken at last. 

How, Shamus, lookback on the beautiful moon, 

For the door of the prison must close on you soon, 

An’ take your last look at her dim, lovely light, 

That falls on the mountain and valley this night ; 

One look at the village, one look at the flood, 

An’ one at the shelthering, far-distant wood ; 

Farewell to the forest, farewell to the hill, 

An’ farewell to the friends that will think of you still ; 
Farewell to the pathern, the hurlin’ an’ wake, 

And farewell to the girl that would die for your sake. 

An’ twelve sodgers brought him to Maryborough-iail, 


SHAMUS O’BRIEN. 


2G 


An’ the turnkey resaved him, refusin’ all bail ; 

The fleet limbs wor chained, an’ the sthrong hands wor 
bound, 

An’ he laid down his length on the cowld prison ground, 
An’ the dreams of his childhood kem over him there 
As gentle an’ soft as the sweet summer air ; 

An’ happy remembrances crowding on ever, 

As fast as the foam-flakes dhrift down on the river, 
Bringing fresh to his heart merry days long gone by, 

Till the tears gathered heavy and thick in his eye. 

But the tears didn’t fall ; for the pride of his heart 
Would not suffer one drop down his pale cheek to start ; 
An’ he sprang to his feet in the dark prison cave, 

An’ he swore with the fierceness that misery gave, 

By the hopes of the good an’ the cause of the brave, 

That when he was mouldering in the cold grave 

His enemies never should have it to boast 

His scorn of their vengeance one moment was lost ; 

His bosom might bleed, but his cheek should be dhry, 

For undaunted he lived, and undaunted he’d die. 

Well, as soon as a few weeks was over and gone, 

The terrible day iv the thrial kem on; 

There was sich a crowd there was scarce room to stand, 
An’ sodgers on guard, an’ dhragoons sword in hand ; 

An’ the court-house so full that the people were bothered, 
An’ attorneys an’ criers on the point iv bein’ smothered ; 
An’ counsellors almost gev over for dead, 

An’ the jury sittin’ up in their box overhead ; 

An’ the judge settled out so detarmined an’ big, 

With his gown on his back, and an illegant new wig ; 

An’ silence was called, an’ the minute it was said 
The court was as still as the heart of the dead, 

An’ they heard but the openin’ of one prison lock, 

An’ Shamus O’Brien kem into the dock. 

For one minute he turned his eye round on the throng, 

An’ he looked at the bars, so firm and so strong, 

An’ he saw that he had not a hope nor a friend, 

A chance to escape, nor a word to defend ; 

An’ he folded his arms as he stood there alone, 


SHAMUS O’BKIEN. 


27 


As calm and as cold as a statue of stone ; 

And they read a big writing a yard long at laste, 

An’ Jim didn’t understand it nor mind it a taste; 

An’ the judge took a big pinch iv snuff, and he says, 

“ Are you guilty or not, Jim O’Brien, av you plase f ” 

An’ all held their breath in the silence of dhread, 

An’ Shamus O’Brien made answer and said : 

“ My lord, if you ask me if in my life-time 

I thought any treason, or did any crime 

That should call to my cheek, as I stand alone here, 

The hot blush of shame or the coldness of fear, 

Though I stood by the grave to receive my death-blow, 
Before God and the world I would answer you, No ! 

But if you would ask me, as I think it like, 

If in the rebellion I carried a pike, 

An’ fought for ould Ireland from the first to the close, 

An’ shed the heart’s blood of her bitterest foes, 

I answer you, Yes; and I tell you again, 

Though I stand here to perish, it’s my glory that then 
In her cause I was willing my veins should run dhry, 

An’ that now for her sake I am ready to die.” 

Then the silence was great, and the jury smiled bright, 

An’ the judge wasn’t sorry the job was made light ; 

By my sowl, it’s himself was the crabbed ould chap ! 

In a twinklin’ he pulled on his ugly black cap. 

Then Shamus’ mother in the crowd standin’ by, 

Called out to the judge with a pitiful cry : 

“0 judge ! darlin’, don’t, oh, don’t say the word ! 

The crathur is young, have mercy, my lord ; 

He was foolish, he didn’t know what he was doin’; 

You don’t know him, my lord, — oh, don’t give him to 
ruin ! 

He’s the kindliest crathur, the tendherest-hearted ; 

Don’t part us forever, we that’s so long parted. 

Judge, mavourneen, forgive him, forgive him, my lord, 

An’ God will forgive you — oh, don’t say the word ! ” 

That was the first minute that O'Brien was shaken, 

When he saw that he was not quite forgot or forsaken ; 


28 


SHAMUS O'BRIEN. 


An' down his pale cheeks, at the word of his mother, 

The big tears wor runnin’ fast, one afther th’ other ; 

An' two or three times he endeavored to spake, 

But the sthrong, manly voice used to falther and break ; 
But at last, by the strength of his high-mounting pride, 

He conquered and mastered his grief-swelling tide, 

“ An’, ” says he, “ mother, darlin’, don't break your poor 
heart, 

For, sooner or later, the dearest must part ; 

And God knows it's betther than wandering in fear 
On the bleak, trackless mountain, among the wild deer, 

To lie in the grave, where the head, heart, and breast, 
From thought, labor, and sorrow, forever shall rest. 

Then, mother, my darlin’, don’t cry any more, 

Don’t make me seem broken, in this, my last hour ; 

For I wish, when my head’s lyin’ undher the raven, 

Ho thruo man can say that I died like a craven ! ” 

Then towards the judge Shamus bent down his head, 

An’ that minute the solemn death-sentince was said 

The momin’ was bright, an’ the mists rose on high, 

An’ the lark whistled merrily in the clear sky ; 

But why are the men standin’ idle so late ? 

An’ why do the crowds gather fast in the street ? 

What come they to talk of? what come they to see ? 

An’ why does the long rope hang from the cross-tree ? 

0 Shamus O’Brien ! pray fervent and fast, 

May the saints take your soul, for this day is your last ; 
Pray fast an’ pray sthrong, for the moment is nigh, 

When, sthrong, proud, an’ great as you are, you must die. 
An’ fasther an’ fasther the crowd gathered there, 

Boys, horses, and gingerbread, just like a fair; 

An’ whiskey was sellin’, an’ cussamuck too, 

An’ ould men and young women enjoying the view. 

An’ ould Tim Mulvany, he med the remark, 

There wasn’t sich a sight since the time of Hoah’s ark, 

An’ be gorra, ’twas thrue for him, for divil sich a scruge, 
Sich divarshia and crowds, was known since the deluge, 
For thousands were gathered there, if there was one, 
Waitin’ till such time as the hangin’ id come on. 


SHAM US O’BKIEX. 


29 


At last they threw open the big prison gate, 

An’ out came the sheriffs and sodgers in state, 

An’ a cart in the middle, an’ Shamus was in it, 

Not paler, but prouder than ever, that minute. 

An’ as soon as the people saw Shamus O’Brien, 

■\Vid prayin’ and blessin’, and all the girls cryin’, 

A wild wailin’ sound kem on by degrees, 

Like the sound of the lonesome wind blowin’ through 
trees. 

On, on to the gallows the sheriffs are gone, 

An’ the cart an’ the sodgers go steadily on ; 

An’ at every side swellin’ around of the cart, 

A wild, sorrowful sound, that id open your heart. 

Now under the gallows the cart takes its stand, 

An’ the hangman gets up with the rope in his hand ; 

An’ the priest, havin’ blest him, goes down on the 
ground, 

An’ Shamus O’Brien throws one last look round. 

Then the hangman dhrew near, an’ the people grew still, 
Young faces turned sickly, and warm hearts turned chill ; 
An’ the rope bein’ ready, his neck was made hare, 

For the gripe iv the life-strangling cord to prepare ; 

An’ the good priest has left him, havin’ said his last 
prayer. 

But tho good priest done more, for his hands he un- 
bound, 

And with one daring spring Jim has leaped on the 
ground ; 

Bang ! bang ! goes the carbines, and clash goes the 
sabres ; 

He’s not down ! he’s alive still ! now stand to him, neigh- 
bors ! 

Through the smoke and the horses he’s into the crowd — 
By the heavens, he’s free! — than thunder more loud, 

By one shout from the people the heavens were shaken — 
One shout that the dead of tho world might awaken. 

The sodgers ran this way, the sheriffs ran that, 

An’ Father Malone lost his new Sunday hat ; 

To-night he’ll bo sleepin’ in Aherloe Glin, 


30 


THE HAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL. 


An’ the divil’s in the dice if you catch him ag’in. 
Your swords they may glitter, your carbines go bang, 
But if you want hangin’, it’s yourself you must hang. 

He has mounted his horse, and soon he will be 
In America, darlint, the land of the free. 


THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL. 

A COMIC RECITATION. anonymous. 

I’m only a little girl, but I think I have as much right 
to say what I want to about things as a boy. I hate boys; 
they’re so mean ; they always grab all the strawberries at 
the dinner table, and never tell us when they are going 
to have any fun. Only I like Gus Rogers. The other day 
Gus told me he was going to let off some fireworks, and he 
let Bessie Nettle and me go and look at them. All of us 
live in a hotel, and his mother’s room has a window with a 
balcony. His mother was gone out to buy some creme de 
Us to put on her face, and he’d went and got eleven boxes 
of lucifer matches, and ever so many pieces of castile soap ; 
he stealed them from the housekeeper. Just when she 
went to put them in her closet, Gus went and told her 
Mrs. Nettle wanted her a minute, and while she was gone 
he grabbed the soap and matches, and when she came 
back he watched her ; and she got real mad, and she scold- 
ed Della (that is the chambermaid), and said she knowed 
she did it; and I was real glad, because when I was turning 
somersets on my mother’s bed the other day Della slapped 
me, and said she wasn’t going' to make the bed two times 
to please me ; then Bessie and me sticked the matches in 
the soap like ten-pins, and Gus fired them off, and they 
blazed like anything, and they made an awful smell, and 
Gus went and turned on a little gas so’s his mother would 
think it was that. 


THE NAUGHTY TITTLE GIRL. 


31 


We get our dinner with the nurses, cause the man that 
keeps the hotel charges full price for the children if they 
sit at the table in the big dining room. Once my mother let 
me go down with her, and I talked a heap at the table, and 
a gentleman that sat next to us said “ little girls should be 
seen and not heard.” The mean old thing died last week, 
and I was real glad, and I told Della so, and she said if I 
went and said things like that, I couldn’t go to heaven. 
Much she knows about it ; and I wouldn’t want to go if 
dirty things like she is went there. Yesterday Mary, our 
nurse, told Bessie Nettle’s nurse that she heard Larry Fin- 
negan was going to marry her. Larry is one of the waiters, 
and he saves candies for me from the big dining room ; and 
Bessie Nettle’s nurse said: “Oh, lord! what a lie!” and 
Bessie Nettle went into her mother’s room, and her little 
brother said she nipped him, and Bessie said: “Oh, lord! 
what a lie !” and you should have heard how her mother 
did talk to her, and went and shut her up in a dark room 
where she kept her trunks, and didn’t let her have noth- 
ing but bread and water ; and Gus Rogers went and yelled 
through the keyhole, and said: “ Bessie, the devil is coming 
to fetch you,” and Bessie screamed and almost had a fit, 
and her mother told Mrs. Rogers, and got Gus licked, 
and Gus says he’s a mind to set the house on fire some 
day, and burn her out. 

One day I went into the parlor and creeped under the 
sofa, and there wasn’t nobody there. They don’t let dogs 
nor children go into the parlor, and I think it’s real mean; 
and I had to creep under the sofa, so nobody could see me ; 
and Mr. Boyce came in, and Miss Jackson ; she said one 
day that children was worse nuisance than dogs. And Mr. 
Boyce and Miss Jackson came in and sitted down on the 
sofa; and he said, “ Oh, Louisa, I do love you so much,” 
and then he kissed her, for I heard it smack. And then 
she said, “ Oh Thomas, I do wish I could believe you ; 
don’t you ever kiss anybody else ?” And he said, “ No, 


32 


THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL. 


dearest/’ and I yelled out, “ Oh, what a big story ! for I 
saw him kiss Bessie Nettle’s nurse in the hall one night, 
when the gas was turned down.” Didn’t he jump up f you 
bet; and he pulled me out and tored my frock, and he 
said, “Oh, you wicked child, where do you expect to go 
to for telling such stories ?” and I told him, “ You shut 
up, I ain’t going anywhere with you.” I wish that man 
would die, like the other one, so I do ; and I don’t care 
whether he goes to heaven or not. 

Gus Rogers’ mother had a lunch party in her parlor, 
and they had champagne, and they never gave him any, 
and when his mother wasn’t looking he found a bottle half 
full on the sideboard, and he stealed it, and took it in our 
nursery ; and Mary wasn’t there, and Gus and me drinked 
it out of the glass Mary brushes her teeth in ; and it was 
real nice ; and we looked in Mary’s wardrobe and found 
her frock that she goes to church in ; and Gus put it on, 
and Mary’s bonnet, too; and we went into the hall, and 
we tumbled down and tored Mary’s frock, and made my 
nose bleed ; and Gus said, “ Oh, there’s a earthquake !” 
cause we couldn’t stand up ; and you should see how the 
house did go up and down — awful ; and Gus and me laid 
down on the carpet, and the housekeeper picked me up 
and tooked me to my mother’s room, and my mother said, 
“Oh, my! whatever have you been doing?” and I said, 
“ Oh, lord ! I drinked some champagne out of Gus Rogers’ 
mother’s bottle, in the glass that Mary brushes her teeth 
in.” And the housekeeper says, “Oh, my goodness gra- 
cious ! that child’s as tight as bricks ;” and I said, “ You 
bet ; bully for you ;” and then I was awful sick, and I’ve 
forgot what else. 


THE BELLS OF SHANDON. 


33 


THE BELLS OF SHANDON. 


RKV. FRANCIS MAHON’S 

Sabatapango; 

Funera plango; 

Solemnia clango. 

[Inscription on an old BtlL 

With deep affection 
And recollection, 

I often think of 
Those Shandon Bells, 

Whose sounds so wild would, 

In days of childhood, 

Fling round my cradle 
Their magic spell. 

On this I ponder 
Where’er I wander, 

And thus grow fonder, 

Sweet Cork, of thee, 

With thy bells of Shandon 
That sound so grand on 
The pleasant waters 
Of the river Lee. 

I’ve heard bells chiming 
Full many a clime in, 

Tolling sublime in 
Cathedral shrine, 

While at a glib rate 
Brass tongues would vibrate ; 

But all their music 

Spoke naught like thine. 

For memory, dwelling 
On each proud swelling 
Of thy belfry, knelling 
Its bold notes free, 


34 


THE BELLS OF SHANNON. 


Made the bells of Shandon 
Sound far more grand on 
The pleasant waters 
Of the river Lee. 

I’ve heard bells tolling 
Old Adrian’s Mole in. 

Their thunder rolling 
From the Vatican, 

And cymbals glorious 
Swinging uproarious 
In the gorgeous turrets 
Of Notre Dame. 

But thy sounds were sweeter 
Than the dome of Peter 
Flings on the Tiber, 

Pealing solemnly. 

0 the bells of Shandon 
Sound far more grand on 
The pleasant waters 

Of the river Lee ! 

There’s a bell in Moscow ; 
While on tower and kiosko 
In Saint Sophia 
The Turkman gets, 

And loud in air 
Calls men to prayer 
From the tapering summit 
Of tall minarets. 

Such empty phantom 

1 freely grant them ; 

But there’s an anthem 

More dear to me : 

’Tis the bells of Shandon, 
That sound so grand on 
The pleasant waters 
Of the river Lee. 


NO SECT IN HEAVEN. 


35 


NO SECT IN HEAVEN. 

A SERIOUS RECITATION. anohtmoub. 

Talking of sects till late one eve, 

Of the various doctrines the saints believe, 

That night I stood in a troubled dream, 

By the side of a darkly flowing stream. 

And a u Churchman ” down the river came : 

When I heard a strange voice call his name. 
u Good father, stop ; when you cross this tide, 

You must leave your robes on the other side.” 

But the aged father did not mind, 

And his long gown floated out behind, 

As down to the stream his way he took, 

His pale hands clasping a gilt-edged book. 

“I’m bound for heaven, and when I’m there, 

I shall want my book of Common Prayer ; . 

And though I put on a starry crown, 

I should feel quite lost without my gown.” 

Then he fixed his eye on the shining track, 

But his gown was heavy, and held him back, 

And the poor old father tried in vain 
A single step in the flood to gain. 

I saw him again on the other side, 

But his silk gown had floated on the tide ; 

And no one asked in that blissful spot, 

Whether he belonged to “ the Church” or not. 

Then down to the river a Quaker strayed. 

His dress of a sober hue was made ; 

“ My coat and hat must be all of gray, 

I cannot go any other way.” 

Then he buttoned his coat straight up to his chin, 

And steadily, solemnly waded in, 

And his broad brimmed hat he pulled down tight 
Over his forehead, so cold and white. 


36 


NO SECT IN HEAVEN. 


But a strong wind carried away his hat ; 

A moment he silently sighed over that. 

And then, as he gazed to the farther shore, 

His coat slipped off, and was seen no more. 

As he went into heaven, his suit of gray 
"Went quietly sailing — away — away, 

And none of the angels questioned him 
About the width of his beaver’s brim. 

Hext came Dr. Watts with a bundle of Psalms 
Tied nicely up, in his aged arms. 

And hymns as many, a very wise thing. 

That the people in heaven, “ all round,” might sing. 

But I thought he heaved an anxious sigh. 

As he saw that the river ran broad and high, 

And looked rather surprised, as, one by one, 

The Psalms and Hymns in the waves went down. 

And after him, with his MSS, 

Came Wesley, the pattern of godliness, 

But he cried, “ Dear me, what shall I do ? 

The water has soaked them through and through.” 

And there on the river, far and wide, 

Away they went down the swollen tide, 

And the saint, astonished, passed through alone, 
Without his manuscripts, up to the throne. 

Then gravely walking, two saints by name 
Down to the stream together came, 

But as they stopped at the river’s brink 

I saw one saint from the other shrink. 

% 

“ Sprinkled or plunged, may I ask you, friend, 

How you attained to life’s great end ?” 

“ Thus, with a few drops on my brow.” 

“ But I have been dipped, as you’ll see me now ; 

And I really think it will hardly do, 

As I’m ‘ close communion,’ to cross with you ; 
You’re bound, I know, to the realms of bliss, 

But you must go that way, and I’ll go this.” 


NO SECT IN HEAVEN. 


37 


Then straightway plunging with all his might. 
Away to the left — his friend at the right, 

Apart they went from this. world of sin, 

But at last together they entered in. 

And now, when the river was rolling on, 

A Presbyterian church went down ; 

Of women there seemed an innumerable throng, 
But the men I could count as they passed along. 

. 

And concerning the road they could never agree, 
The old or the new way, which it could be, 
if or ever a moment paused to think 
That both would lead to the river’s brink. 

And a sound of murmuring long and loud 
Came ever up from the moving crowd : 

“ You’re in the old way, and I’m in the new, 
That is the false, and this is the true; 

Or, “ I’m in the old way, and you’re in the new, 
That is the false, and this is the true.” 

But the brethren only seemed to speak, 

Modest the sisters walked, and meek, 

And if ever one of them chanced to say 
What troubles she met with on the way, 

How she longed to pass to the other side, 

Nor feared to cross over the swelling tide, 

A voice arose from the brethren then : 

“ Let no one speak but the I * * 4 holy men;’ 

For have ye not heard the words of Paul, 

‘ Oh, let the women keep silence all’ ?” 

I watched them long in my curious dream, 

Till they stood by the borders of the stream, 
Then, just as I thought, the two ways met, 

But all the brethren were talking yet, 

And would talk on, till the heaving tide 
Carried them over, side by side ; 

Side by side, for the way was one, 

The toilsome journey of life was done, 


38 RORY o’more’s present to the priest. 

And priest and Quaker, and all who died, 

Came out alike on the other side. 

No forms, or crosses, or books had they, 

No gowns of silk, or suits of gray, 

No creeds to guide them, or MSS., 

For all had put on Christ’s righteousness. 


RORY O’MORE’S PRESENT TO THE PRIEST. 

AN IRISH RECITATION. hamuki. i.ovkk. 

“ Why, thin, I’ll tell you,” said Rory. “I promised my 
mother to bring a present to the priest from Dublin, and I 
could not make up my mind rightly what to get all the 
time I was there. I thought of a pair o’ top-boots ; for, in- 
deed, his reverence’s is none of the best, and only you 
knoiv them to be top-hoots, you would not take them to be 
top-boots, bekase the bottoms has been put in so often 
that the tops is wore out intirely, and is no more like top- 
boots than my brogues. So I went to a shop in Dublin, 
and picked out the purtiest pair o’ top-boots I could see ; 
whin I say purty, I don’t mane a flourishin’ taarin’ pair, 
but sitch as was fit for a priest, a respectable pair o’ boots ; 
and with that, I pulled out my good money to pay for thim, 
whin jist at that minit, remembering the thricks o’ the 
town, I bethought o’ myself, and says I, ‘ 1 suppose these 
are the right thing?’ says I to the man. ‘You can thry 
them,’ says he. ‘How can I thry them?’ says I. ‘Pull 
them on you,’ says he. ‘ Troth, an’ I’d be sorry,’ says I, ‘ to 
take sitch a liberty with them,’ says I. ‘ Why, aren’t you 
goin’ to ware thim ?’ says he. ‘ Is it me ?’ says I, ‘ me ware 
top-boots ? Do you think it’s takin’ lave of me sinsis I am ?’ 
says I. ‘ Then what do you want to buy them for V says he. 
‘ For his reverence, Father Kinshela,’ says I. ‘ Are they the 
right sort for him ?’ ‘ How should I know ?’ says he. ‘You’re 


RORY O’MORE’S PRESENT TO THE PRIEST. 39 

a purty bootmaker,’ says I, ‘not to know how to make a 
priest’s boot !’ ‘How do I know his size V says he. ‘Oh, 
don’t be cornin’ off that way,’ says I. ‘There’s no sitcli 
great differ betune priests and other min !’ 

“I think you were very right there,” said the pale 
traveler. 

“To be sure, sir,” said Rory; “and it was only jist a 
come-off for his own ignorance. ‘ Tell me his size,’ says 
the fellow, ‘and I’ll fit him.’ ‘He’s betune five and six 
fut,’ says I. ‘Most men are,’ says he, laughin’ at me. He 
was an impident fellow. ‘ It’s not the five, nor the six, but 
his two feet I want to know the size of,’ says he. So I 
persaived he was jeerin’ me, and says I, ‘why, thin, you 
respectful vagabone o’ the world, you Dublin jackeen! do 
you mane to insinivate that Father Kinshela ever wint bare- 
futted in his life, that I could know the size of his fut,’ 
says I ; and with that I threw the boots in his face. ‘Take 
that,’ says I, ‘ you dirty thief o’ the world ! you impident 
vagabone of the world ! you ignorant citizen o’ the world !’ 
And with that I left the place.” 

“ It is their usual practice,” said the traveler, “ to take 
measure of their customers.” 

“Is it, thin?” 

“ It really is.” 

“ See that, now !” said Rory, with an air of triumph. 
“ You would think that they wor cleverer in the town 
than in the Country; and they ought to be so, by all ac- 
counts ; but in the regard of what I towld you, you see, 
we’re before them intirely.” 

“ How so ?” said the traveler. 

“Arrah ! bekase they never throuble people in tlio 
country at all with takin’ their measure ; but you jist go to 
a fair, and bring your fut along with you, and somebody 
else dhrives a cartful o’ brogues into the place, and there 
you sarve yourself ; and so the man gets his money, and 
you get your shoes, and every one’s plazed.” 


40 


RORY O’MORE’S PRESENT TO THE PRIEST. 


u But what I mane is, where did I leave off tellin’ you 
about the present for the priest ? wasn’t it at the boot- 
maker’s shop ! yes, that was it. Well, sir, on laving the 
shop, as soon as I kem to myself afther the fellow’s 
1 impidence, I begun to think what was the next best thing 
I could get for his reverence ; and with that, while I was 
thinkin’ about it, I seen a very respectable owld gintleman 
goin’ by, with the most beautiful stick in his hand I ever 
set my eyes on, and a goolden head to it that was worth 
its weight in goold ; and it gev him such an iligant look 
altogether, that says I to myself, ‘ It’s the very thing for 
Father Kinshela, if I could get sitch another.’ And so I 
wint lookin’ about me every shop I seen as I wint by, and 
at last, in a sthreet they call Dame sthreet, and by the 
same token I didn’t know why they called it Dame sthreet 
till I ax’d ; and I was towld they called it Dame sthreet 
bekase the ladies were so fond o’ walkin’ there j and lovely 
craythurs they wor ! and I can’t believe that the town is 
such an onwholesome place to live in, for most o’ the ladies 
I seen there had the most beautiful rosy cheeks I ever 
clapt my eyes upon ; and the beautiful rowlin’ eyes o’ them ! 
Well, it was in Dame sthreet, as I was savin’, that I kem 
to a shop where there was a power o’ sticks, and so I 
wint in and looked at thim ; and a man in the place kem 
to me and ax’d me if I wanted a cane! ‘No,’ says I, ‘I 
don’t want a cane ; it’s a stick I want,’ says I. ‘ A cane, 
you mane ,’ says he. ‘ No,’ says I ‘ it’s a stick,’ for I was 
determined to have no cane, but to stick to the stick, 
j ‘ Here’s a nate one,’ says he. ‘ I don’t want a nate one,’ 
says I, ‘ but a responsible one,’ says I. ‘ Faith !’ says he, 
‘ if an Irishman’s stick was responsible, it would have a 
great dale to answer for,’ and he laughed a power ; I 
didn’t know myself what he meant, but that’s what he 
said.” 

11 It was because you asked for a responsible stick,” said 
the traveler 


RORY O’MORE’s PRESENT TO THE PRIEST. 


41 


“ And why wouldn’t I,” said Rory, “when it was for his 
reverence I wanted it? Why wouldn’t he have a nice- 
lookin’, respectable, responsible stick ?” 

“ Certainly,” said the traveler. 

“ Well, I picked out one that looked to my likin,’ a good 
substantial stick, with an ivory top to it ; for I seen that 
the goold-headed ones was so dear that I couldn’t come up 
to them ; and so says I, ‘ Give me a howld o’ that,’ says I, 
and I tuk a grip iv it. I never was so surprised in my life. 
I thought to get a good, brave handful of a solid stick, but, 
my dear, it was well it didn’t fly out o’ my hand a’most, it 
was so light. ‘ Phew !’ says I, ‘what sort of a stick is this V 
‘I tell you it’s not a stick, but a cane,’ says he. ‘Faith! 
I b’lieve you,’ says I. ‘ You see how good and light it is,’ 
says he. Think o’ that, sir ! to call a stick good and light, 
as if there could be any good in life in a stick that wasn’t 
heavy and could sthreck a good blow ! ‘ Is it jokin’ you 

are,’ says I ? ‘ Don’t you feel it yourself?’ says he. ‘ Throth, 
I can hardly feel it at all,’ says I. ‘ Sure that’s the beauty 
of it,’ says he. Think o’ the ignorant vagabone ! to call a 
stick a beauty that was as light a’most as a bulrush! 
‘ And so you can hardly feel it !’ says he, grinnin’. ‘ Yis 
indeed,’ says I ; ‘ and what’s worse, I don’t think I could 
make any one else feel it either.’ ‘ Oh ! you want a stick 
to bate people with !’ says he. ‘ To be sure,’ says I ; ‘ sure 
that’s the use of a stick.’ ‘ To knock the sinsis out o’ 
people !’ says he, grinnin’ again. ‘ Sartinly,’ says I, ‘ if 
they’re saucy, lookin’ hard at him at the same time. 
‘ Well, these is only walkin’-sticks,’ says fie. ‘ Throth, 
you may say runnin'- sticks,’ says I, ‘for you daren’t stand 
before any one with sitch a ihraneen as that in your fist.’ 
‘ Well, pick out the heaviest o’ them you plaze,’ says he ; 
‘ take your choice.’ So I wint pokin’ and rummagin’ among 
thim, and, if you believe me, there wasn’t a stick in their 
whole shop worth a kick in the shins— divil a one !” 

“ But why did you require such a heavy stick for the 
priest?” 


42 RORY o’more’s present to the priest. 

“Bekase there’s not a man in the parish wants it more,” 
says Kory. 

“Is he so quarrelsome, then?” said the traveler. 

“No, but the greatest o’ pacemakers,” says Kory. 

“Then what does he want the heavy stick for?” 

“For wallopin’ his flock, to be sure,” said Rory. 

“Walloping!” said the traveler, choking with laughter. 

“Oh! you may laugh,” said Rory, “but ’pon my sowl! 
you wouldn’t laugh if you wor undher his hand, for he has 
a brave heavy one, God bless him and spare him to us !” 

“And what is all this walloping for?” 

“Why, sir, whin we have a bit of a fight, for fun, or 
the regular faction one, at the fair, his reverence some- 
times hears of it, and comes av coorse.” 

“Good God!” said the traveler, in real astonishment, 
“does the priest join in the battle?” 

“No, no, no, sir ! I see you’re quite a sthranger in the 
counthry. The priest join it ! Oh ! by no manes. But ho 
comes and stops it; and av coorse the only way he can 
stop it is to ride into thim, and wallop thim all round be- 
fore him, and disparse thim ; scatter thim like chaff before 
the wind ; and it’s the best o’ sticks he requires for that 
same.” 

“ But might he not have his heavy stick for that pur- 
pose, and make use of a lighter one on other occasions ?” 

“ As for that matther, sir,” said Rory, “ there’s no know- 
in’ the minit he might want it, for he is often necessitated 
to have recoorse to it. It might be, going through the 
village, the public-house is too full, and in he goes and 
dhrives thim out. Oh ! it would delight your heart to see 
the style he clears a public-house in, in no time !” 

“ But wouldn’t his speaking to them answer the purpose 
as well ?” 

“ Oh, no ! he doesn’t like to throw away his discoorse 
on thim ; and why should he ? he keeps that for the bless- 
ed althar on Sunday, which is a fitter place for it ; besides, 
he does not like to be sevare on us.” 


RORY O’MORE’S PRESENT TO THE PRIEST. 43 

u Severe ?” said the traveler, in surprise, “ why, haven’t 
you said that he thrashes you round on all occasions f ” 

“ Yis, sir; but what o’ that? sure that’s nothin’ to his 
tongue ; his words is like swoords or rhazors, I may say : 
we’re used to a lick of a stick every day, hut not to sick 
language as his reverence sometimes murthers us with 
when we displaze him. Oh ! it’s terrible, so it is, to have 
the weight of his tongue on you ! Throtli ! I’d rather let 
him bate me from this till to-morrow, than have one angry 
word with him.” 

“ I see, then, he must have a heavy stick,” said the 
traveler. 

“ To be sure he must, sir, at all times ; and that was 
the raison I was so particular in the shop; and afther 
spendin’ over an hour, would you b’lieve it ? divil a stick I 
could get in the place fit for a child, much less a man.” 

“But about the gridiron?” 

“Sure I’m tellin’ you about it,” said Itory; “only I’m 
not come to it yet. You see,” continued he, “ I was so 
disgusted with them shopkeepers in Dublin that my heart 
was fairly broke with their ignorance, and I seen they knew 
nothin’ at all about what I wanted, and so I came away with- 
out anything for his reverence, though it was on my mind all 
this day on the road ; and cornin’ through the last town in 
the middle o’ the rain, I thought of a gridiron.” 

“ A very natural thing to think of in a shower of rain,” 
said the traveler. 

“No, ’twasn’t the rain made me think of it. I think 
it was God must have put a gridiron in my heart, seein’ that 
it was a present for the priest I intended ; and when I 
thought of it, it came into my head, afther, that it would 
be a fine thing to sit on, for to keep one out of the rain, 
that was ruinatin’ my corderoys on the top o’ the coach ; so 
I kept my eye out as we dhrove along up the sthreet, and 
sure enough what should I see at a shop half-way down 
the town, but a gridiron hanging up at the door ! ai;d so I 
went back to get it.” 


44 


“mother’s fool. 


“ But isn’t a gridiron an odd present? hasn’t his rev- 
erence one already ?” 

“ He had, sir, before it was bruk ; but that’s what 1 
remembered, for I happened to be up at his place one day, 
sittin’ in the kitchen, when Molly was brilin’ some mate, an 
it for his reverence ; and while she jist turned about to get 
a pinch o’ salt to shake over it, the dog that was in the 
place made a dart at the gridiron on the fire, and threw 
it down, and up he whips the mate, before one of us could 
stop him. With that Molly whips up the gridiron, and 
says she, 1 Bad luck to you, you disrespectful baste ! would 
nothin’ sarve you but the priest’s dinner ?’ and she made a 
crack o’ the gridiron at him. 1 As you have the mate, 
you shall have the gridiron too,’ says she ; and with that 
she gave him such a rap on the head with it, that the bars 
flew out of it, and his head went through it, and away he 
pulled it out of her hands, and ran off with the gridiron 
hangin’ round his neck like a necklace ; and ho went mad 
a’most with it ; for though a kettle to a dog’s tail is nath- 
rel, a gridiron round his neck is very surprisin’ to him ; and 
away he tatthered over the country, till there wasn’t a 
taste o’ the gridiron left together.” 


“MOTHER’S FOOL.” 

“ ’Tis plain to me/' said a farmer’s wife, 

“ Those boys will make their mark in life ; 
They never were made to handle a hoe, 
And at once to college ought to go. 

There's Fred — he's little better 'n a fool ; 
But John and Henry must go to school." 

“Well, really, wife," quoth Farmer Brown, 
As he sat his mug of cider down, 

“ Fred does more work in a day for me 
Than both his brothers do in three. 


“MOTHER’S FOOL.” 


45 


Book laming will never plant one’s corn, 

Nor hoe potatoes, sure’s you’re born, 

Nor mend a rod of broken fence — 

For my part, give me common sense.'’ 

But his wife was bound the roost to rule, 

And J ohn and Henry were sent to school, 

"While Fred, of course, was left behind, 

For his mother said he had no mind ! 

Five years at school the students spent, 

Then into business each one went ; 

J ohn learned to play the flute and fiddle, 

And parted his hair, of course, in the middle ; 
While his brother looked rather higher than he, 
And hung out a sign, “ H. E. Brown, M. D.” 

Meanwhile, at home their brother Fred 
Had taken a notion into his head ; 

But he quietly trimmed his apple trees, 

And weeded his onions, and planted peas ; 

While, somehow, either by hook or by crook, 

He managed to read full many a book ; 

Until, at last, his father said 

He was getting “book lamin’” into his head. 

“But, for all that,” said Farmer Brown, 

“ He’s the smartest boy there is in town.” 

The war broke out, and Captain Fred 
One hundred men to the battle led ; 

And when the rebel flag came down, 

He came marching home as General Brown, 

But he went to work on the farm again, 

(And plowed the ground and sowed the grain), 
Be-shingled the barn, and mended the fence, 

And the people declared, “ He had common sense.” 
Now, common sense was very rare, 

And the State House needed a portion there ; 

So the “ Family Dunce ” moved into town, 

And the people called him Governor Brown ; 

And his brothers, who went to the city school, 
Came home to live with “ Mother’s Fool.” 


46 


QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


QUEEN ELIZABETH. 

A COMIC ORATION. anonymous. 

Queen Elizabeth is dead. It doesn’t make any matter 
how we got the information. This is none of our fight — 
this quarrel between the Associated Press and its rival. 
We’ve received the news, and that’s enough. She died 
two hundred and sixty-eight years ago the twenty-fourth 
of last month. She survived until the vital spark had fled, 
and then she saw it was of no use resisting the inscrutable 
decree of fate, and so her unfettered soul took its flight 
into the mysterious void, and settled down in that bourne 
from which no traveler returns unless he has a mission to 
jerk chairs around and rap on tables for the benefit of me- 
diums and other long-haired, wild-eyed lunatics. 

Queen Elizabeth was a virgin — a vergin’ on seventy ; 
and yet the fire gleamed as brightly as ever in her cream- 
colored eye, and the delicate sheen of her finely tinted ma- 
roon nose contrasted as forcibly as in her youth with the 
alabaster of her brow; and the plugs in her teeth were just 
as valuable as when gold was at 156. 

She had no small vices. She did not smoke or chew, or 
belong to the society for promotion of cruelty to animals. 
And when she swore, she never descended to the vulgarity 
of Horace Greeley — Queen Elizabeth didn’t. When she used 
profanity, she gave it with a finish, an elegance, a delicate, 
airy grace, and infused into it a luxurious abandon, and 
rounded it off carefully at the corners, and dressed it up 
with well-selected poetical adjectives, so that it sounded 
like a strain from some sweet singer, like some sweet sing- 
er straining himself, in fact. And she had red hair. 

Her chignon was burglar-proof. And often in the dim 
twilight of evening, when the sun had sunk to rest, when 
the western sky was filled with tender radiance and lam- 
bent light, and the bulbul wooed the rose in the back 


QUEEN ELIZABETH. 


47 


yard, she would play a few notes upon her harpsichord or 
write a latin hymn or an essay upon the Harrison boiler. 
She was supposed to be the author of “Rock Me to Sleep, 
Mother/’ and “ Beautiful Snow” and “ Five o’ Clock in the 
Morning.” But nevertheless she was a very estimable wo- 
man, and with all her faults we love her still — better, 
indeed, than if she were still fooling around. 

Queen Elizabeth was not proud. She always insisted 
upon cleaning her own teeth, even if she was a Queen ; 
and she always did it once a week, every Sunday morning, 
with her own tooth-brush. What a lesson does it teach 
to those who are haughty and vain, and belong to the 
bon-ton ! She never forgot that she was mere perishable 
dust, and that the sheep and the silkworm wore her fine 
clothes long before she got them. She read every Sunday- 
school book that taught these facts j and she once trod on 
Sir Walter Raleigh’s cloak to remind him of them, because 
he was so set up with his new fancy cassimeres. She said 
upon her death-bed that Lydia Thompson need not learn 
this lesson, because it had no moral for those who browsed 
round in Nature’s simple garb. 

Queen Elizabeth was not sorry to die. She foresaw 
that George F. Train was coming to England, and she 
said to her physicians that she would prefer the enduring 
peace of the cold and silent grave to three weeks of George 
and the Alabama claims controversy and the Schleswig- 
Holstein question all at the same time. Her last words 
were “Kill Horace Greeley before he has a chance to 
write 1 What I Know About Farming.’ ” There was not a 
dry eye in that second-story front room. Everybody was 
thinking how impossible it was to fulfill her dying request, 
and to escape so much misery. 

But she has now gone ; she has left us ; we shall see her 
no more. Perhaps it is for the best. She was a vigorous 
woman, and if she had lived she might have come to 
America, and we might have given her offense, and she 


48 


THE STARLING. 


might have pranced around here and flogged us like the 
very nation. For she was a woman who followed closely 
in all the prevailing fashions. And so we are glad she is 
dead, and has four tons of marble planted on her to hold 
her down. 

Rest in peace, old girl ! Rest in pieces ! 


THE STARLING. 

A EECITATION. Robert bcchanan. 

The little lame tailor sat stitching and snarling — 

Who in the world was the tailor’s darling ? 

To none of his kind 
Was he well inclined, 

But he doted on Jack the starling. 

For the bird had a tongue, and of words a store. 

And his cage was hung just over the door. 

And he saw the people and heard the roar— 

Folk coming and going evermore — 

And he looked at the tailor — and swore. 

From a country lad the tailor bought him, 

His training was bad, for tramps had taught him ; 

On alehouse benches his cage had been, 

While louts and wenches made jests obscene ; 

But he learned, no doubt, his oaths from fellows 
Who travel about with kettle and bellows, 

And three or four — the roundest by far 
That ever he swore — were taught by a tar. 

And the tailor heard. “We’ll be friends !” said he, 

“ You’re a clever bird, and our tastes agree — 

We both are old, and esteem life base, 

The whole world cold, things out of place, 

And we’re lonely too, and full of care, 

So what can we do but swear ? 


THE STARLING. 


49 


“ The devil take you, how you mutter ! 

Yet there’s much to make you swear and flutter. 

You want the fresh air and the sunlight, lad, 

And your prison there feels dreary and sad, 

And here I frown in a prison dreary, 

Hating the town, and feeling weary ; 

'We’re too confined, Jack, and we want to fly, 

And you blame mankind, Jack, and so do I ! 

-And then, again, by chance as it were, 

We learned from men how to grumble and swear ; 

You let your throat by the scamps be guided, 

And swore by rote — all just as I did ! 

And without beseeching, relief is brought us, 

For we’re turning the teaching on those who taught us !” 

A haggard and ruffled old fellow was Jack, 

With a grim face muffled in ragged black, 

And his coat was rusty and never neat, 

And his wings were dusty from the dismal street, 

And he sidelong peered, with eyes of soot too, 

And scowled and sneered — and was lame of a foot, too ! 
And he longed to go from whence he came ; 

And the tailor, you know, was just the same. 

All kinds of weather they felt confined, 

And swore together at all mankind ; 

For their mirth was done, and they felt like brothers, 

And the swearing of one meant no more than the other’s ; 
'Twas just a way they had learned, you see — 

Each wanted to say only this — “ Woe’s me ! 

I’m a poor old fellow, 

And I’m prisoned so. 

While the sun shines mellow, 

And the corn waves yellow, 

And the fresh winds blow, — 

And the folk don’t care if I live or die, 

But I long for air, and I wish to fly !” 

Yet unable to utter it, and too wild to bear, 

They could only mutter it, and swear. 


50 LORD DUNDREARY’S RIDDLE. 

Many a year they dwelt in the city, 

In their prisons drear, and none felt pity, 

And few were sparing of censure and coldness, 

To hear them swearing with such plain boldness ; 

But at last, by the Lord their noise was stopt, 

For down on his board the tailor dropt, 

And they found him dead, and done with snarling, 

And over his head still grumbled the starling; 

But when an old Jew claimed the goods of the tailor, 

And with eye askew eyed the feathery railer, 

And, with a frown at the dirt and rust, 

Took the old cage down, in a shower of dust, — 

Jack, with heart aching, felt life past bearing, 

And, shivering, quaking, all hope forsaking, died swearing. 


LORD DUNDREARY’S RIDDLE. 

A LAUGHABLE BECIT ATION . anohtmoup. 

One of the many popular delusions wespecting the 
Bwittish swell is the supposition that he leads an indepen- 
dent life— goes to bed when he likes, gets up when he 
likes, d-dwesses how he likes, and dines when he pleases. 

The public are gwossly deceived on this point. A 
weal swell is as m-much under authowity as a p-poor devil 
of a pwivate in the marines, a clerk in a government 
office, or a f-fourth-form boy at Eton. Now I come under 
the demon — demonima — (no, — thtop, — what is the word?) 
— dom — denom — d -denomination, — that’th it — I come un- 
der the d-denomination of a swell — (in — in fact a howwid 
swell — some of my fwiends call me, but that’th only their 
flattewy,) and I assure you a f- fellah in that capacity is so 
much westwained by rules of f-fashion that he can scarcely 
call his eye-glathhis own. A swell, I take it, is a fellah 
who t-takes care that he swells as well as swells who swell 
as well as he (there’s thuch lot of thwelling in that then- 


LORD DUNDREARY’S RIDDLE. 


51 


tence, — ha, ha ! — it’s what you might c-call a busting 
definition). What I mean is, that a f-fellah is obliged to 
do certain things at certain times of the year, whether he 
likes’ em or no. For instance, in the season I’ve got to go 
to a lot of balls and dwums and tea-fights in town, that I 
don’t care a bit about, and to show myself in the park 
wegularly evewy afternoon j and latht month I had to 
victimize mythelf down in the countwy, — shooting (a bwu- 
tal sort of amusement, by the way). Well, about the end 
of October evewy one goes to Bwighton, n-no one knowth 
why, — that’th the betht of it, — and so I had to go too,— 
that’s the wortht of it, — ha, ha ! 

Not that it’s such a b-bad place after all, — I d-dare say 
if I hadn’t had to go I should have gone all the same, for 
what is a f-fellah to do who ithu’t much of a sportsman just 
about this time ? There’th n-nothing particular going on 
in London. Evewything is b-beathly dull ; so I thought I 
would just run down on the Southeastern Wail way to be 
—ha, ha! — Bwightoned up a bit. (Come, th-that’s not 
bad for an impromptu !) 

B-Bwighton was invented in the year 1784, by his 
Woyal Highness, George, P-Pwince of Wales, the author 
of the shoe-buckle, the stand-up collar (a beathly incon- 
venient and cut-throat thort of machine), and a lot of 
other exthploded things. He built the Pavilion down 
there, which looks like a lot of petrified onions from 
Bwobdinag clapped down upon a guard -house. There’th 
a jolly sort of garden attached to the building, in which 
the b-band plays twice a week, and evewy one turns in 
there about four o’ clock, so I went too (n-not two o’ clock, 
you know, but f-four o’ clock). I — I’m vewy fond of m -mar- 
tial music, mythelf. I like the dwums and the t-twombones, 
and the ophicleides, and all those sort of inthtwuments, 
— yetli, ethpethelly the bwass ones, they’re so vewy exth- 
piring, they are. Thtop though, ith it exthpiring or p-per- 
thpiring? — n-neither of ’em sound quite right. Oh ! I have 


52 


LORD DUNDREARY’S RIDDLE. 


it now, it — it’s mthpiring, — that’tli what it is, because the 
f-fellahs bweathe into them ! 

That weminds me of a widdle I made down there) I — 
I’ve taken to widdles lately, and weally it’tli a vewy harm- 
leth thort of a way of getting thwough the morning, and 
it amuthes two f-fellahs at onth, because if — if you atkk a 
f-fellak a widdle, and he can’t guess it, you can have a jolly 
good laugh at him , and — if he — if he doth guess it, he — I 
mean you — no — that is the widdle — stop, I — I’m getting 
confuthed, — where wath I ? Oh ! I know. If — if he doth 
guess it — however, it ithn’t vewy likely he would — so 
what’s the good of thupposing impwobabilities ?) Well, 
thith was the widdle I made. I thed to Sloper (Sloper’s a 
fwiend of mine — a vewy good thort of fellah Sloper is — I 
d-don’t know exactly what his pwofession would be called, 
but hith uncle got him into a b-berth where he gets f-five 
hundred a year — f-for doing nothing — s-somewhere — I for- 
get where — but I — I know he does it) — I said to Sloper, 
“ Why is that f-fellah with the b-bassoon 1-like his own 
instrument ?” and Sloper said “ How — how the dooth should 
I know?” (Ha, ha! — I thought he’d give it up !) Sol 
said to Sloper, “Why, b-because they both get blown — in 
time /” You thee the joke, of course, but I don’t think 
Sloper did, thomehow; all he thed was, “ Y-vewy mild, 
Dundreary,” — and t-tho — it was mild — thertainly, f-for 
October , but I d-don’t thee why a f-fellah should go making 
wemarks about the weather instead of laughing at my 
widdle. 

In this pwomenade that I was speaking of, you see such 
a lot of thtunning girls evewy afternoon, — dwessed twe- 
mendous swells, and looking like — yes, by Jove! 1-like 
angels in cwinoline, — there’th no other word for it. There 
are two or three always will 1 -laugh, somehow, when I 
meet them — they do now, weally. I — I almost fancy they 
wegard me with intewest. I mutht athk Sloper if he can 
get me an introduction. Who knowth? pwaps I might 


LORD DUNDREARY’S RIDDLE. 


53 


make an impwession — I’ll twy — I — I’ve got a little con- 
verthational power — and theveral new wethcoats. 

Bwightou is filling fast now. You see dwoves of ladies 
evewy day on horseback, widing about in all diwections. 
By the way, I — I muthn’t forget to mention that I met 
those two girls that always laugh when they thee me, at a 
tea-fight. One of ’em — the young one — told me, when I 
was intwodueed to her — in — confidence, mind — that she 
had often heard of me and of my widdles. Tho you thee 
I’m getting quite a weputathun that way. The other 
morning, at Mutton’s, she was ch-chaffing me again, and 
begging me to tell her the latetht thing in widdles. Now, 
I hadn’t heard any mythelf for thome time, tho I couldn’t 
give her any vewy great novelty, but a fwiend of mine 
made one latht theason which I thought wather neat, tho 
I athked her, When ith a jar not a jar ? Thingularly 
enough, the moment she heard thith widdle she burtht out 
laughing behind her pocket-handkerchief! 

“ Good gwacious! what’th the matter?” said I. “Have 
you ever heard it before ?” 

“ Never,” she said emphatically, “ in that form; do 
please tell me the answer.” 

So I told her — When it ith a door? Upon which she 
— she went off into hystewics. I — I — I never did see such 
a girl for laughing. I know it’s a good widdle, but I 
didn’t think it would have such an effect as that. 

By the way, Sloper told me afterwards that he thought 
he had heard the widddle before, somewhere, but it was 
put in a different way. He said it was : When ith a door 
not a door — and the answer, When it ith ajar ! 

I — I’ve been thinking over the matter lately, and 
though I dare thay it — d-don’t much matter which way 
the question is put, still — pwaps the last f-form is the 
betht. It — it seems to me to wead better. What do you 
think ? 

Now I weckomember, I made thuch a jolly widdle the 


54 


THE STUTTERING LASS. 


other day on the Ethplanade. I thaw a fellah with a big 
New — Newfoundland dog, and he inthpired me — the dog 
you know, not the fellah — he wath a lunatic. I’m keep- 
ing the widdle, but I don’t mind telling you . 

Why does a dog waggle hith tail f Give it up ? I think 
motht fellahs will give that up ! 

You thee, the dog waggles hith tail becauth the dog’s 
stwonger than the tail. If he wathn’t, the tail would 
waggle the dog ! 

Ye-eth, — that’th what I call a widdle. If I can only 
weccollect him, I thall athtonish those two girls thome of 
these days. 


THE STUTTERING LASS. 

J. O. IAXK. 

When deeply in love with Miss Emily Pryne, 

I vowed, if the maiden would only be mine, 

I would always endeavor to please her. 

She blushed her consent, though the stuttering lass 
Said never a word, except “ You’re an ass — 

.An ass — an ass-iduous teaser ! ” 

But when we were married, I found to my ruth 
The stammering lady had spoken the truth ; 

For often, in obvious dudgeon, 

She’d say, — if I ventured to give her a jog 
In the way of reproof , — u You’re a dog — you’re a dog — 
A dog — a dog-matic curmudgeon!” 

And once when I said, “We can hardly afford 
This extravagant style with our moderate hoard, 

And hinted we ought to be wiser, 

She looked, I assure you, exceedingly blue, 

And fretfully cried, “ You’re a Jew — you’re a Jew — 

A very ju-dicious adviser ! ” 


THE IRISH TRAVELER. 


THE IRISH TRAVELER. 

ANONYMOUS. 

An Irishman traveling, though not for delight, 

Arrived in a city one cold winter's night, 

Found the landlord and servants in bed at the inn. 

While standing without he was drench’d to the skin. 

He grop’d for the knocker, no knocker was found, 

Then turning his head accidentally round, 

He saw, as he thought, by the lamp’s feeble ray, 

The object he search’d for right over the way. 

The knocker he grasp’d, and so loud was the roar 
It seem’d like a sledge breaking open the door; 

The street, far and wide, was awoke by the clang, 

And sounded aloud with the Irishman’s bang ; 

The wife scream’d aloud, and the husband appears 
At the window, his shoulders shrugg’d up to his ears. 

“So ho ! honest friend, pray what is the matter, 

That at this time of night you should make such a clatter? 
“Go to bed! go to bed!” says Pat, “my dear honey, 

I am not a robber to ask for your money ; 

I borrow’d your knocker before it was day, 

To waken the landlord right over the way .” 


THE REMEDY AS BAD AS THE DISEASE. 

A POPULAR RECITATION. anonymous. 

Once on a time, ’tis said, that Hounslow Heath 
Was by a gang of robbers sore infested, 

Who with the sword of justice boldly jested, 

Till Mister Kirby’s necklace stopp’d their breath. 
Three doughty officers of volunteers, 

Knights of the thimble (Fame reports) and shears, 
Stopping at Hounslow in a chaise and pair. 

Ask’d fiercely if the Heath was safe from thieves: 
“Yes, sir,” replied the ostler, “I believes : 

Besides, what need such warlike gemmen care ? ” 


5f> 


A SUBJECT FOB DISSECTION. 


The ostler had a friend who lurk'd at hand, 

A tribute-gatherer on the road — no worse, 

Who, viewing slyly this redoubted band, 

Swore each should pay the forced loan of his purse. 

Or put, to speak more like a politician, 

Their money in a state of requisition ! 

Away then rode he on to wait his prey ; 

The heroes paid their score, and off went they. 

But ere they half the Heath had cross’d 
They found the chevalier upon his post ; 

He stopp’d the chaise — “ Gemmen,” says he, “ I hear 
This road is horribly by rogues beset ; 

And, though such valiant men despise all fear, 

Perhaps you’ll be in danger if you’re met.” 

At this their powdered locks began to bristle : 

“What shall we do?” they cried, “ Oh, tell us what!” 
“Why, gemmen,” says the rogue, and show’d a pistol— 
“ Best leave your cash with me ; I’ll tell you that.” 
“What, all our money? nay, for goodness hold.” 

“Yes, all — quick! quick!” replied the rogue, “your gold! 
Make haste ! — your watches, too, must be unfobb’d ; 

Or, dash my buttons, sirs, but you’ll be robb’d ! ” 


A SUBJECT FOR DISSECTION. 

A RECITATION. anonymous. 

A man at a tavern had made so free 
With Perkins’ best entire, 

He fell from his seat, and asleep laid he 
Before the parlor fire. 

The landlord, who wished to shut up shop, 

Cried, “Hang this drunken clown! 

Whoever will take him out neck and crop 
I’ll give him half a crown.” 

A wag who was taking his parting cup 
Cries, “ Done ! — just give me a sack, 


57 


THE HEATHEN CHINEE. 

I'll put him in gently, tie him up, 

And take him away on my back.” 

So said, so done ; at a surgeon's door 
He gives a gentle kick ; 

“I've brought you a subject — five pounds, no more, 
Here — give me the cash — be quick ! " 

The bargain is struck — the money is paid, 

The fellow cries out “All’s right!” 

The drunken man on the floor is laid, 

And the surgeon says “Good night.” 

But either the jolting had conquered the beer, 

Or by time its strength had fled ; 

For noises came to the surgeon’s ear 
That a body can't make that’s dead ! 

Enraged at a trick, he follow'd the man, 

And cried, “How dare you connive 

At an action so base? But I’ll foil your plan ; 

Why knave, the fellow's alive !” 

“Alive ! you don't say so,” he only said, 

(It seem'd not the least to daunt him), 

“He'll keep the better — don't be afraid — 

You can kill him whenever you want him !” 


THE HEATHEN CHINEE. 

OR ; PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTHFUL JAMES. 

RllKT HARTE. 

Which I wish to remark — 

And my language is plain — 

That for ways that are dark 
And for tricks that are vain 
The heathen Chinee is peculiar : 

Which the same I would rise to explain. 

Ah Sin was his name ; 

And I shall not deny 


58 


THE HEATHEN CHINEE. 


In regard to the same 
"What that name might imply ; 

But his smile it was pensive and child-like, 

As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye. 

It was August the third, 

And quite soft was the skies, 

■Which it might he inferred 
That Ah Sin was likewise : 

Yet he played it that day upon William 
And me in a way I despise. 

Which we had a small game, 

And Ah Sin took a hand : 

It was euchre. The same 
He did not understand ; 

But he smiled as he sat by the table, 

With the smile that was child- like and bland. 

Yet the cards they were stocked 
In a way that I grieve, 

And my feelings were shocked 
At the state of Nye’s sleeve, 

Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, 

And the same with intent to deceive. 

But the hands that were played 
By that heathen Chinee, 

And the points that he made, 

Were quite frightful to see — 

Till at last he put down a right bower, 

Which the same Nye had dealt unto me. 

Then I looked at Nye, 

And he gazed upon me ; 

And he rose with a sigh, 

And said, “Can this be? 

We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor/’ — 

And he went for that heathen Chinee. 

In the scene that ensued 
I did not take a hand, 

But the floor it was strewed 


MONA’S WATERS. 


59 


Like the leaves on the strand, 

With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding 
In the game “he did not understand.” 

In his sleeves, which were long, 

He had twenty-four packs — 

Which was coming it strong, 

Yet I state but the facts. 

And we found on his nails, which were taper— 
What is frequent in tapers — that's wax. 

Which is why I remark, 

And my language is plain, 

That for ways that are dark 
And for tricks that are vain 
The heathen Chinee is peculiar — 

Which the same I am free to maintain. 


MONA'S WATERS. 

A PATHETIC RECITATION. anonymous. 

Oh Mona's waters are blue and bright 
When the sun shines out like a gay young lover ; 
But Mona's waves are dark as night 
When the face of heaven is clouded over. 

The wild wind drives the crested foam 
Ear up the steep and rocky mountain, 

And booming echoes drown the voice, 

The silvery voice, of Mona's fountain. 

Wild, wild against that mountain's side 
The wrathful waves were up and beating, 

When stem Glenvarloch's chieftain came ; 

With anxious brow and hurried greeting 
He bade the widowed mother send 
(While loud the tempest's voice was raging) 

Her fair young soon across the flood, 

Where winds and waves their strife were waging. 


60 


MONA’S WATERS. 


And still that fearful mother prayed, 

“ Oh yet delay, delay till morning, 

For weak the hand that guides our bark 
Though brave his heart, all danger scorning. 
Little did stem Glenvarloch heed : 

“The safety of my fortress tower 
Depends on tidings he must bring 
From Fairiee bank, within the hour. 

“ See’st thou, across the sullen wave, 

A blood-red banner wildly streaming? 

That flag a message brings to me 
Of which my foes are little dreaming. 

The boy must put his boat across 

(Gold shall repay his hour of danger), 

And bring me back, with care and speed, 

Three letters from the light-browed stranger.” 

The orphan boy leaped lightly in; 

Bold was his eye and brow of beauty, 

And bright his smile as thus he spoke : 

“ I do but pay a vassal’s duty ; 

Fear not for me, 0 mother dear ; 

See how the boat the tide is spuming ; 

The storm will cease, the sky will clear, 

And thou wilt watch me safe returning.” 

His bark shot on — now up, now down. 

Over the waves — the snowy-crested ; 

How like a dart it sped along, 

How like a white- winged sea-bird rested 
And ever when the wind sank low, 

Smote on the ear that woman’s wailing, 

As long she watched, with streaming eyes, 

That fragile bark’s uncertain sailing. 

He reached the shore — the letters claimed ; 

Triumphant, heard the stranger’s wonder 
That one so young should brave alone 
The heaving lake, the rolling thunder. 

And once again his snowy sail 
“Was seen by her — that mourning mother; 


MONA’S WATERS. 


And once she heard his shouting voice — 

That voice the waves were soon to smother. 

Wild burst the wind, wide flapped the sail, 

A crashing peal of thunder followed ; 

The gust swept o’er the water’s face, 

And caverns in the deep lake hollowed. 

The gust swept past, the waves grew calm, 

The thunder died along the mountain ; 

But where was he who used to play, 

On sunny days, by Mona’s fountain ? 

His cold corpse floated to the shore 
Where knelt his lone and shrieking mother; 

And bitterly she wept for him, 

The widow’s son, who had no brother ! 

She raised his arm — the hand was closed ; 

With pain his stiffened fingers parted, 

And on the sand three letters dropped ! — 

His last dim thought — the faithful-hearted. 

Glenvarloch gazed, and on his brow 
Remorse with pain and grief seemed blending ; 

A purse of gold he flung beside 

That mother, o’er her dead child bending. 

Oh, wiidly laughed that woman then, 

11 Glenvarloch ! would ye dare to measure 

The holy life that God has given 
Against a heap of golden treasure ? 

“ Ye spumed my prayer, for we were poor ; 

But know, proud man, that God hath power 

To smite the king on Scotland’s throne, 

The chieftain in his fortress tower. 

Frown on ! frown on ! I fear ye not ; 

We’ve done the last of chieftain’s bidding, 

And cold he lies, for whose young sake 
I used to bear your wrathful chiding. 

“Will gold bring back his cheerful voice 
That used to win my heart from sorrow ? 


62 


MONA’S WATERS. 


'Will silver warm the frozen blood, 

Or make my heart less lone to-morrow ? 

Go back and seek your mountain home. 

And when ye kiss your fair-haired daughter 

Eemember him who died to-night 
Beneath the waves of Mona’s water.” 

Old years rolled on, and new ones came — 
Foes dare not brave Glenvarloch’s tower ; 

But naught could bar the sickness out 
That stole within fair Annie’s bower. 

The o’erblown floweret in the sun 
Sinks languid down, and withers daily, 

And so she sank, her voice grew faint, 

Her laugh no longer sounded gayly. 

Her step fell on the old oak floor 
As noiseless as the snow-shower’s drifting ; 

And from her sweet and serious eyes 
They seldom saw the dark lid lifting. 

“ Bring aid ! biing aid !” the father cries ; 

“ Bring aid!” each vassal’s voice is crying; 

“The fair-haired beauty of the isles, 

Her pulse is faint — her life is flying ! ” 

He called in vain ; her dim eyes turned 
And met his own with parting sorrow, 

For well she knew, that fading girl, 

That he must weep aud wail the morrow. 

Her faint breath ceased ; the father bent 
And gazed upon his fair-haired daughter. 

What thought he on ? The widow’s son, 

And the stormy night by Mona’s water. 


A SHOWMAN ON THE WOODCHUCK. 


63 


A SHOWMAN ON THE WOODCHUCK. 

ANONYMOUS* 

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the distinguished hani- 
mal which is known as the Hamerican Voodcock, first 
discovered by General Christopher Columbus, in his voyage 
to the woods of Hameriky. Christopher saw him quietly 
seated upon a bank of clover, a viewing the setting sun 
and vondering vot would become of it. This ere is one of 
the descendants of that same voodchuck, as may be heasily 
seen by his general happearance, vich is beautiful and 
striking. He is a solitary creechur, and is called voodchuck 
because he lives in the voods, and the boys chuck stones 
at him. He has hair upon his back and his belly, and 
his tail is much the same. His eyes are at the opposite 
ends of his body, and assist him in the amusing occupa- 
tion of seeing, vich he can see in the dark as well as in the 
light, helse ho wouldn’t live in ’oles hunder the ground. 
Like most hanimated things, he is fond of enjoying himself, 
vich he does in a very amiable and interesting vay. He 
’obbles along upon the ground, ven nobody is looking, 
vatches the birds in the trees and tries to sing like them, 
vich he has never succeeded in doing ; but this is not his 
fault, because he hasn’t got any feathers. The voodchuck 
lives a good vile. Howing to the quiet life vich the vood- 
chuck enjoys, I ’ave sometimes vished I vas a voodchuck 
myself. But then there is not hexitement in it enough for a 
showman, though I can say, as Halexander remarked to 
Diogenes, “hif I were not a showman, I vould be a vood- 
chuck !” Here, ladies and gentlemen, is the very oss on 
vich the Duke of Vallentine slew the Lord Napoleon 
Bonaparte ! Stir him up, John, and make him kick a bit. 


64 


HOW HAPPY I’LL BE. 


HOW HAPPY PLL BE I 

AWONTMOU8. 

A little one played among the flowers, 

In the blush and bloom of summer hours ; 

She twined the buds in a garland fair, 

And bound them up in her shining hair. 

“ Ah me,” said she, “ how happy I’ll be 
When ten years more have gone over me 
And I am a maiden, with youth’s bright glow 
Flushing my cheek and lighting my brow !” 

A maiden mused in a pleasant room, 

Where the air was filled with soft perfume ; 

Yases were near, of antique mold, 

Beautiful pictures, rare and old, 

And she, of all the loveliness there, 

Was by far the loveliest and most fair. 

“ Ah me 1 ” sighed she, “how happy I’ll be 
When my heart’s true love comes home to me ! 

Light of my life, my spirit’s pride, 

I count the days till thou reach my side.” 

A mother bent over a cradle nest, 

Where she soothed her babe to his smiling rest. 

“ Sleep well,” she murmured soft and low, 

And she pressed her kisses on his brow ; 

“ Oh child, sweet child ! how happy I’ll be 
If the good God let thee stay with me 
Till later on, in life’s evening hour, 

Thy strength shall be my strength and tower.” 

An aged one sat by the glowing hearth, 

Almost ready to leave the earth ; 

Feeble and frail, the race she had run 
Had borne her along to the setting sun. 

“ Ah me !” she sighed, in an undertone, 

“ How happy I’ll be when life is done ! 

When the world fades out with its weary strife, 

And I soar away to a better life !” 


A frenchman’s account of the fall. 


65 


’Tis thus we journey from youth to age, 
Longing to turn to another page, 

Striving to hasten the years away, 

Lighting our hearts with the future’s ray ; 
Hoping on earth till its visions fade, 

Wishing and waiting, through sun and shade ; 
Turning, when earth’s last tie is riven. 

To the beautiful rest that remains in heaven. 


A FRENCHMAN’S ACCOUNT OF THE FALL. 

ANOXYMOUK. 

“ Monsieur Adam, he wake up: he see une belle de- 
moiselle aslip in ze garden. Voila de la chance. ‘ Bon 
jour, Madam Iv.’ Madam Iv, she wake : she hole her fan 
before to her face. Adam put up his eyeglass to admire 
ze tableau. Zey make one promenade. Madam Iv, she 
feel angry ; she see appel on ze arbre. Serpent se promene, 
sur l’arbre, make one walk on ze tree. ‘ Mons. le Serpent,’ 
say Iv, ‘ weel you not have ze bonte to peek me some 
appel ? J’ai faim.’ 1 Certainement, madame,’ say ze serpent 
1 charme de vous voir. ‘ Hola, mon ami, ar-r-r-eter vous, 
say Adam ; 1 stop, stop, que songen vous faire ? What 
madness is zees — you must not peek ze appel.’ Ze snake, 
he take one pinch of snuff, he say, 1 Ah ! Mons. Adam, do 
you not know zere is nothing proheebet for ze ladies? 
Madame Iv, permeet me to offer you some of this fruit 
defendu.’ Iv, she make one courtezy, ze snake he fill 
her whole parasol wiz appel: he say, ‘ Eritis sicut Deus. 
Mons. Adam he will eat ze appel, he will become like one 
Dieu, know ze good and ze evil ; but you, Madam Iv, can- 
not become more of a goddess zan you are now,’ and zia 
finish Madam Iv/ 


ISABEL’S GRAVE. 


66 


ISABEL’S GRAVE. 

A PATHETIC RECITATION. j„ it. laicdom. 

Oh, it is veriest vanity to love ! 

Lovers are misers, who hoard up a store 
Of wealth that cannot profit them, but turns 
To weariness or waste. And what is love, 

So sought with deep anxiety till won ? 

Beautiful disappointment when once gained. 

We are now seated by a green turf grave : 

The white rose, which hangs o’er it droopingly, 
Parched by the summer, for which yet it pined 
Throughout the winter, is the history 
Of its cold tenant. She was a fair girl, 

The very flower of Andalusian maids ; 

No one so often heard the light guitar 
Steal on her midnight ; and though rarely gold 
Or pearls bound her dark tresses, there were few 
Of nobler birth or of more Indian wealth. 

So very young, so beautiful, ’twas like 
The sudden fading of a bud in spring — 

On which there is no mark of blight or worm. 

When her place was found vacant in the dance, 

And her soft voice was missed ; when it was said 

That in a convent’s solitude she hid 

The light and bloom of her sweet April time, 

They did not know how youth’s best pleasures pall 
When the heart is not in them, or how much 
Of happiness is in those secret thoughts 
Which each hides from the other. Isabel 
Lived but in one deep feeling, for she loved — 

Loved with that wild and intense love which dwells 
In silence, secrecy, and hopelessness, 

And deemed a cloister was the fittest shade 
For unrequited tenderness ; and love, 

Nourished by blushes and by passionate tears, 

Grew like a fairy flower, until it filled 
The solitary heart with fancied beauty. 


THE PARSON AND THE SPANIEL. 


1)7 


They say there is a destiny in love : 

’Twas so with Isabel. Some one had breathed 
The secret cause that turned her from the world ; 
She had been loved although she knew it not, 

And vow and veil of the dark convent cell 
'Were changed for bridal ones. 

Alas ! the vanity of these warm feelings ! 

A little while, and hers was happiness ; 

But this low grave, where rests the broken heart, 
May tell how short it was. The heart which made 
A world itself of visionary hopes, 

Might never bear the chill realities, 

All that affection has to learn" and brook 
When its first coloring is departed. Love, 

I can but liken thee to the red bloom 
Upon the apple — making the outside bright 
But reaching not the core ! 


THE PARSON AND THE SPANIEL 

A HUMOROUS RECITATION. anontmovs. 

A gentleman possessed a favorite Spaniel, 

That never treated maid or man ill ; 

This dog, of which we cannot too much say, 

Got from his godfather the name of Tray. 

After ten years of service just, 

Tray, like the race of mortals, sought the dust, 

That is to say, the Spaniel died. 

A coffin, then, was ordered to be made, 

The dog was in the churchyard laid ! 

While o’er his pale remains the master cried, 
Lamenting much his trusty fur-clad friend, 

And willing "to commemorate his end, 

He raised a small blue stone just after burial, 

And, weeping, wrote on it this sweet memorial. 


THE PARSON AND THE SPANIEL. 


(58 

Tkay’s Epitaph. 

Here lies the relic of a friend below, 

Blest with more sense than half the folks I know 
Fond of his ease, and to no parties prone, 

He damn’d no sect, but calmly gnaw’d his bone ; 
Performed his functions well in every way, 

Blush ! Christians, if you can, and copy Tray. 

The Curate, of the Huntingtonian band, 

Bare breed of gospel hawks, that scour the land, 

And fierce on sins their quarry fall, 

Those locusts that would eat up all, 

Men who with new-invented patent eyes 
See heaven, and all the angels in the skies. 

As plain as in the box of showman Swiss, 

For little master made, or curious miss, 

~We see with huge delight the King of Franco 
-With all his lords and ladies dance — 

This Curate heard th’ affair with deep emotion, 

And thus exclaimed, with infinite devotion : 

“ 0 Lord ! 0 Lord ! 0 Lord ! 0 Lord ! 

Fine doings these, upon my word ; 

This truly is a very pretty thing, 

"What will become of this most shocking world ? 

How richly such a rogue deserves to swing, 

And then to Satan’s hottest flames be hurled ; 

Oh, by this damned deed, how I am hurried, 

A dog, in Christian ground, indeed ! be buried, 

And have an epitaph, forsooth, so civil ! 

Egad ! old maids will presently be found 
Clapping their dead pet cats in holy ground, 

And writing verses on each mousing devil.” 

Against such future casualty providing, 

The priest set off like Homer’s Neptune striding, 
Towing to put the culprit in the court. 

He found him at the Spaniel’s humble grave, 

Not praying, neither singing of a stave, 

And thus began to abuse him, not exhort : 

“Son of the devil ! what hast thou done ? 


AN IRISHMAN’S LETTER. 


09 


Naught for the action can atone; 

I should not wonder if the lightnings red 
Dashed to earth that wretched head, 

Which dared so foul, so base an act devise : 

Bury a dog like Christian folk ! 

None hut the fiend of darkness could provoke 
A man to perpetrate so odd a deed ; 

Our Inquisition soon the tale shall hear. 

And quickly your fine fleece shall shear: 

Why, such a villain must he mad indeed/' 

“ Softly, my reverend sir/' the squire replied, 

“ Tray was as good a dog as ever died ; 

No education could his morals mend, 

And what perhaps, sir, you may douht, 

Before his lamp of life went out, 
lie ordered you a legacy, my friend." 

“ Did he ? poor dog !” the softened priest rejoined, 
In accents pitiful and kind ; 

“ What ! was it Tray ? I’m sorry for poor Tray ; 
Why, truly, dogs of such rare merit, 

Such real nobleness of spirit, 

Should not like common dogs he put away. 

Well, pray what was it that he gave, 

Poor fellow ! ere he sought the grave ? 

I guess I may put confidence, sir, in ye." 

“A piece of gold," the gentleman replied. 

“I’m much obliged to Tray," the Parson cried, 
Gave up the cause, and pocketed the guinea. 


AN IRISHMAN’S LETTER. 

The following characteristic letter was written by a 
Hibernian after six years experience of American institu- 
tions : 

New York, Dec. the one, 1867. 
My dear Mary, the darlint of my heart and sowl, I am 
well, but had the favor and ague ; and I hope you are in 


70 


AN IRISHMAN’S LETTER. 


tho same condition, thanks be to God. I wish you Many 
happy New Years, and the childer, and hope you will have 
threescore and ten of them. We had a Christmas here, 
But tho Haythens don’t keep it like we used at home. 
Divil resave the one ivir said to me Many happy Christ- 
mas, or Bad luck to you, or any other Politeness. I did 
not get a Christmas box until i was going home that night, 
and a night -walking Blackguard gave me one on the eye, 
and axed me for my money. I gave him all i could, about 
a score of pounds, which knocked the sinse out of him. 
Dear Mary, They tell me that the Nagur is going to be the 
White Man in future j and the White Nagurs in Congress, 
a public house in Washington, are going to try the Presi- 
dent for being a white man. If they find him guilty, and 
there is no doubt of it, for they are accusers, witnesses, 
lawyers and judges all in one, they are going to execute 
him, make a fellow called Coldfacks President, and re- 
move the state of Goverment to a place called Boshton, 
celebrated for its republicans and sinners. Thim is the 
same as the Pediculous fellows they call Eidicules, or 
Radicals, saving your Prisence. They want to continue 
their own Power, God Betune us and all harm. They say 
the Southerners must go down on their knees to them. 
They forget that the poor divils are flat on their backs 
already ; and they are a mane set to kick a man whin he’s 
down. Be jabers it makes my Blood bile to think of it. 
One war is no sooner inded then they Commence the be- 
gining of another in Washington ; an’ God knows whin or 
where it may ind. I lost one fine leg in tho last, But i havo 
another left for a good cause, and I’ll fight for Johnson, 
for i hear his Great Grandmother, by his forefather’s side, 
was an Irishman. We have snow and frost here, and is 
likely to have more weather. The temperance men, God 
save the mark, in a place called Albany, where the people 
sind ripresentatives to chate thim, have stopt our grog, 
only By Daylight. Divil a much' matter anyways, for they 


AN AFFECTIONATE LETTER. 


71 


don’t Aape a dacint drap of drink in the country ; no raal 
ould Irish Poteen ; nothing but stuff that would kill a pig, 
if lie had to live on it, much less a Christian Baste. 

Remember me to Darby. Tell him he’s well, and ax 
him how i am. I am sorry to hear of the death of the 
Bull, and hope you are likewise ; her milk is a loss. Tell 
Teddy McFinn if he comes out here he will see more of 
America in one day than if he staid home all his life. I 
am glad his wife got over the twins, and hope she’ll do 
better the next time, there is room for improvement. I 
like this country; but there is no place like ould Ireland, 
where you’d get as much whiskey for a shilling as would 
make tay for six people. If you get this, write soon ; if 
you don’t, write and let me know. I may be dead, for 
life is uncertain under the Radicals. But dead or alive I’ll 
answer your letter. Address your dear Brother Jimmy, 
New York, America. 

Jimmy Me Bride. 


AN AFFECTIONATE LETTER. 

Tipperary , Ireland, September the ten. 
My Dear Nephew: 

I have not heard anything of you sens the last time I 
wrote ye. I have moved from the place where I now live, 
or I should have written to you before. I did not know 
where a letter might find you first, but I now take my pen 
in hand to drop you a few lines, to inform you of the death 
of your own living uncle, Kilpatrick. He died very sud- 
denly after a long illness of six months. Poor man, he 
suffered a great deal. He lay a long time in convulsions, 
perfectly quiet and speechless, and all the time talking 
incoherently and inquiring for water. 

I’m much at a loss to tell you what his death was occa- 
sioned by, but the doctor thinks it was caused by his last 


72 


THE HALIBUT IX LOYE. 


sickness, for he was not well ten days during liis confine- 
ment. 

His age ye know jist as well as I can tell ye ; he was 2 i 
years old last March, lacking fifteen months; and if he 
had lived till this time he would be just six months dead. 

N. B. Take notis. I inclose to you a tin pound note, 
which ye father sends to ye unbeknown to me. Tour 
mother often speaks of ye ; she would like to send ye the 
brindle cow, and I would inclose her to ye but for the 
horns. 

I would beg of ye not to break the sale of this letter 
until two or three days after ye read it, for thin ye will be 
better prepared for the sorrowful news. 

Patrick O’Branigan. 

To Michael Glancy, No. — Broad street, United States 
of Ameriky, State of Massachusetts, in Boston. 


THE HALIBUT IN LOYE. 

A Halibut sang to his lady-love, 

A Mackerel under the sea, 

The while he played on his light banjo. 

“Oh, come and live with me !” 

The deep blue waters were rolling 
Beneath them and above, 

But more fiercely rolled his glassy ej*e 
As thus he sang to his love : 

“ I know,” sang he, “ of waters far 
Less salt and briny than these, 

Where we can swim or not, and do 
Exactly what we please ; 

Let us fly from here to-morrow, my dear, 
And a life of love begin — 

T ou stole my fond heart long ago. 

And I offer you my fin.” 


THE HALIBUT IN LOYE. 


73 


And the little Mackerel looked askance, 

And trembled in every bone ; 

She confessed, with a tear, she worshiped him, 
And lived for his love alone ; 

She further promised, the following morn, 

To the place he mentioned to go, 

And the Halibut struck up a wedding-march 
On the spot, on his old banjo. 

“ Heave ho !” the fisherman sang, 

Captains and crews and cooks; 

“ Heave ho !” and down they sent 
Their lines and baited hooks ; 

“ I'm hungry,” the little Mackerel said, 

“ And I’ll take one little bite 

To stay my stomach, for I shan’t sleep, 

I'm so very nervous to night.” 

The Halibut came for his lady-love, 

And he looked like a gay young swell ; 

But she, on the fishing- vessel’s deck, 

Lay a lifeless Mackerel. 

He searched every nook and comer, 

He fondly called her by name, 

But nothing but mocking echoes 
To his ears for answers came. 

Then frantically to and fro 
The startled Halibut flew ; 

As the hours passed by and he found her not. 
More scared and frantic he grew. 

Till at last he met her sister, 

With her eyes full of briny tears, 

And the tale she told of his true love’s fate 
Confirmed his terrible fears. 

And ever after on lovely nights, 

When other fish are asleep, 

That broken-hearted Halibut 
Doth his ceaseless vigils keep ; 


74 


THE MERRY SOAP-BOILER. 


No longer he tunes his old banjo 
To strains of love, they say, 

But funeral airs and other things 
Of a similar kind doth play. 

His cheeks are hollow, his form is thin, 

(He used to be sleek and fat), 

He mourns by night and he mourns by day, 
And he wears a weed on his hat ; 

Once he kept the best of company, 

And was tasty in his dress, 

But now of prevailing fashions 

He knows little, and cares much less. 

In vain his father, a hearty old sport, 

Endeavors his spirits to raise ; 

He neglects his friends, and has taken to drink, 
And is ruined in various ways. 

His mother tells him there’s other fish 
As fair as she doth swim ; 

But he beats his head and flaps his fins 
And says they’re nothin’ to him ! 


THE MERRY SOAP-BOILER. 

A RECITATION. 

A steady and a skillful toiler, 

John get his bread as a soap-boiler; 

Earned all he wished — his heart was light, 
He worked and sang from morn till night. 
E’en during meals his notes were heard, 

And to his beer were oft preferred ; 

At breakfast, and at supper too, 

His throat had double work to do. 

He oftener sang than said his prayers, 

And dropped asleep while humming airs ; 

Until his every next-door neighbor 

Had learned the tunes that cheered his labor, 


THE MERRY SOAP-BOILER. 


V 


And every passer-by could tell 
■Where merry John was wont to dwell 
At reading he was rather slack, 

Studied at most the almanac 
To know when holidays were nigh, 

And put his little savings by ; 

But sang the more on vacant days, 

To waste the less his means and ways. 

’Tis always well to live and learn ; 

The owner of the soap concern — 

A fat and wealthy burgomaster, 

Who drank his hock and smoked his knaster, 
At marketing was always apter 
Than any prelate in the chapter, 

And thought a pheasant in sour-krout 
Superior to a turkey-poult ; 

But woke at tiroes before daybreak 
With heartburn, gout, or liver-ache — 

Oft heard our skylark of the garret 
Sing to his slumber, but to mar it. 

He sent for John one day, and said, 

“What’s your year’s income from your trade?" 
“Master, I never thought of counting 
To what my earnings are amounting 
At the year’s end ; if every Monday 
I’ve paid my meat and drink for Sunday, 

And something in the box unspent 
Kemains for fuel, clothes, and rent, 

I’ve husbanded the needful scot, 

And feel quite easy with my lot. 

The maker jof the almanac 

Must, like your lordship, know no lack, 

Else, a red-letter, eamless day, 

Would oftener be struck away.’’ 

“John, you’ve been long a faithful fellow, 
Though always merry, seldom mellow. 

Take this rouleau of fifty dollars — 

My purses glibly slip their collars— 


76 THE MERRY SOAP-BOILER. 

But before breakfast let this singing 
No longer in my ears be ringing; 

When once your lips and eyes unclose, 

I must forego my morning dose.” 

John blushes, bows, and stammers thanks, 
And steals away on bended shanks, 

Hiding and hugging his new treasure, 

As had it been a stolen seizure. 

At home he bolts his chamber-door, 

Yiews, counts, and weighs his tinkling store, 
Nor trusts it to the savings-box 
Till he has screwed on double locks. 

His dog and he play tricks no more, 

They’re rival watchmen of the door. 

Small wish has he to sing a word, 

Lest thieves should climb his stair unheard. 
At length he finds, the more he saves, 

The more he frets, the more he craves ; 

That his old freedom was a blessing 
III sold for all he’s now possessing. 

One day he to his master went 
And carried back his hoard unspent. 

“ Master,” says he, “ I’ve heard of old, 
Unblest is he who watches gold. 

Take back you present, and restore 
The cheerfulness I knew before. 

I’ll take a room not quite so near, 

Out of your worship’s reach of ear, 

Sing at my pleasure, laugh at sorrow, 

Enjoy to-day, nor dread to-morrow, 

Be still the steady, honest toiler, 

The merry John, the old soap-boiler.” 


THE UNBELIEVER 


77 


THE UNBELIEVER. 

UK. CHALMKRS. 

I pity the unbeliever — one who can gaze upon the 
grandeur, and glory, and beauty of the natural universe, 
and behold not the touches of His finger, who is over, 
and with, and above all ; from my very heart I do com- 
miserate his condition. The unbeliever ! one whose intel- 
lect the light of revelation never penetrated ; who can 
gaze upon the sun, and moon, and stars, and upon the un- 
fading and imperishable sky, spread out so magnificently 
above him, and say all this is the work of chance. The 
heart of such a being is a drear and cheerless void. In 
him, Mind, the god-like gift of intellect — is debased, de- 
stroyed ; all is dark — a fearful chaotic labyrinth — ray less 
— cheerless — hopeless ! No gleam of light from heaven 
penetrates the blackness of the horrible delusion ; no voice 
from the Eternal bids the desponding heart rejoice. No 
fancied tones from the harps of Seraphim arouse the dull 
spirit from its lethargy, or allay the consuming fever of 
the brain. The wreck of mind is utterly remediless; reason 
is prostrate; and passion, prejudice, and superstition have 
reared their temple on the ruins of his intellect. 

I pity the unbeliever. What to him is the revelation 
from on high but a sealed book ? He sees nothing above, 
or around, or beneath him, that evinces the existence of a 
God; and he denies — yea, while standing on the foot-stool 
of Omnipotence, and gazing upon the dazzling throne of 
Jehovah, he shuts his intellect to the light of reason, and 
denies there is a god. 


78 


THE VOICES AT THE THRONE. 


THE VOICES AT THE THRONE. 

A SERIOUS RECITATION. t. wkstwood. 

A little child, 

A little meek-faced, quiet village child, 

Sat singing by her cottage door at eve 
A low sweet Sabbath song. No human ear 
Caught the faint melody — no human eye 
Beheld the upturned aspect, or the smile 
That wreathed her innocent lips while they breathed 
The oft-repeated burden of the hymn, 

“ Praise God ! Praise God ! ” 


A seraph by the throne 
In full glory stood. "With eager hand 
He smote the golden harp-string, till a flood 
Of harmony on the celestial air 
Welled forth, unceasing. There, with a great voice, 
He sang the u Holy, holy evermore, 

Lord God Almighty ! ” and the eternal courts 
Thrilled with the rapture, and the hierarchies, 

Angel, and rapt archangel, throbbed and burned 
With vehement adoration. 

Higher yet 

Rose the majestic anthem, without pause, 

Higher, with rich magnificence of sound, 

To its full strength ; and still the infinite heavens 
Rang with the “ Holy, holy evermore ! ” 

Till, trembling with excessive awe and love, 

Each sceptred spirit sank before the throne 

With a mute hallelujah. 

% 

But even then, 

While the ecstatic song was at its height, 

Stole in an alien voice — a voice that seemed 
To float, float upward from some world afar — 

A meek and childlike voice, faint, but how sweet ! 
That blended with the spirits’ rushing strain, 


LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING. 


79 


Even as a fountain’s music with the roll 
Of the reverberate thunder. 

Loving smiles 

Lit up the beauty of each angel’s face 
At that new utterance, smiles of joy that grew 
More joyous yet, as ever and anon 
Was heard the simple burden of the hymn, 

“Praise God! praise God!” 

And when the seraph’s song 
Had reached its close, and o’er the golden lyre 
Silence hung brooding — when the eternal courts 
Rang with the echoes of his chant sublime, 

Still through the abysmal space that wandering voice 
Came floating upward from its world afar, 

Still murmured sweet on the celestial air, 

“ Praise God ! praise God !” 


LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING. 

A HUMOROUS RECITATION . r. j. skill. 

“Any fellah feelth nervouth when he knowth he’th going 
to make an ath of himself. ” 

That’s vewy twue, — I — I’ve often thed tho before. But 
the fact is, evewy fellah dothn’t make an ath of himthelf, 
at least not quite such an ath as I’ve done in my time. I — 
don’t mind telling you, but ’pon my word now, — I — I’ve 
made an awful ath of mythelf on thome occathions. You 
don’t believe it now, do you ? I — thought you wouldn’t, 
— but I have now — weaUy. Particularly with wegard to 
women. 

To say the twuth, that is my weakneth — I s’pose I’m 
what they call a ladies’ man. The pwetty cweachaws like 
me — I know they do— though they pwetend not to do so. 
It— it’s the way with some fellahs. There was hith late 
Majesty, George the Fourth. I never thaw him mythelf, 


80 


LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING. 


you know, but I’ve heard he had a sort of way with him 
that no woman could wesist. They used to call him a cam 
— what is it? a camelia — no, camel-leopard, no — chamele- 
on, isn’t it ? that attwacts people with its eyes — no, by the 
way that — that’s the bwute that changes color — it couldn’t 
have been that, you know, — Georgius Wex — never changed 
color — he — he’d got beyond blushing, he had — he only 
blushed once — early — vewy early in life, and then it was 
by a mistake — no, cam — chameleon’s not the word. What 
the dooth is it ? 0, stop, — it begins with a B. By the way, 
it’s ’stonishing how many words begin with a B. 0, an awful 
lot! No — no wonder Dr. Watts talked about the — the 
busy B. Why, he’s more work than all the west of the al- 
phabet. However, the word begins with a B, and its Bas 
— Basiloose — yes, that’s it — stop, I’d better look it out in 
the dictionary to make certain. I — I hate to make mis- 
takes — I do — especially about a thimplo matter like this. 
0, here we are — B. Basilica. 

No it — that can’t be the word, you know — George was 
king, and if — if Basilica means a royal palace — they — they 
might have been — welations — but that’s all — no, it isn’t 
Basilica — it — it’s Basilisk — -yes, I’ve got it now — it’s Bath- 
ilith. That’s what his Majesty was — a Bathilith, and fas- 
cinated fair creachaws with his eye. Let me see — where 
was I ? 0,1 rekomember — or weckolect — which is it ? 

Never mind, I was saying that I was a ladies’ man. 

I wanted to tell you of one successful advenchaw I had, 
— at least, when I say successful, I mean it would have 
been as far as 1 was concerned — but of course when two 
people are engaged — or wather — when one of ’em wants to 
be engaged, one fellah by himself can’t engage that he’ll 
engage affections that are otherwise engaged. By the way, 
what a lot of ’gages that was in one thentense, and yet — 
it seems quite fruitless. Come, that’s pwetty smart, that 
is — for me. 

Well, as I was' saying — I m£an as I meant to have said 


LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING. 


81 


— when I was stopping down at Wockingham, with the 
Widleys, last autumn, there was a mons’ous jolly girl stay- 
ing there too. I don’t mean too girls you know — only — 
only one girl — But stop a minute — is that right ? How 
could one girl be stopping there tivo ? What doosid queer 
expressions there are in the English language! Stop- 
ping there two ! It’s vewy odd I — I’ll swear there was 
only one girl, — at least, the one that I mean was only one 
— if she’d been two, of course I should have known it — 
let me see now, one is singular, and two is plural, — well, 
you know, she ivas a singular girl — and she — she was one 
too many for me. Ah, I see now — that accounts for it — 
one tivo many — of course — I knew there was a two some- 
where. She had a vewy queer name, Miss — Miss — Miss 
Miss, no not Miss Missmiss — I always misss the wrong — I 
mean the right namg — Miss Chaffingham — that’s it — 
Charlotte Chaffingham. I weckomember Charlotte, be- 
cause they called her Lotty — and one day at bweakfast — • 
I made a stunning widdle — I said — “Why is Miss Charlotte 
like a London cabman ? ” Well none of them could guess 
it. They twied and twied, and at last my brother Sam — 
he gave a most stupid anthwer — he said, “ 1 know,” he 
said — “ She’s like a London cabman because she’s got a 
fair back 

Did you ever hear anything so widiculous ? Just as if 
her face wasn’t much pwettier than her back ! Why, I 
could see that, for I was sitting opposite her. It’s twue 
Sam was just behind her, offering some muffins, but — you 
know he’d seen her face, and he weally ought to have 
known better. I told him so — I said, “Tham, you ought 
to be athamed of yourthelf, that ' th not the anther.” 

Well of course then they all wanted to know, and I — I 
told ’em — ha, ha ! my answer was good, wasn’t it ? 0, I 
forgot I havn’t told you — well — here it is — I said — 

“Miss Charlotte is like a London cabman, because she’s 
a Lotty Chaffingham ” (of course I meant, lot o’ chaff in 


82 LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING. 

him). D’ye see ? Doosid good I call it — but would you 
believe ? all the party began woarwing with laughter all 
wound. At first I thought they were laughing at the wid- 
dle, and I laughed too, but at last Captain Wagsby said 
(by the way, I hate Wagsby — he’s so doosid familiar) — 
Captain Wagsby said, “Hulled again, my Lord.” From 
this low cxpwession — which I weckollect at Oxford — I 
thought that they thought I had mado a mithtake, and 
asked them what they meant by woarwing in that absurd 
manner. 

“Why, don’t you see, Dundreary,” some one said, — “it 
won’t do — you’ve forgotten the lady’s sex, — -Miss Char- 
lotte can’t be said to have any chalf in him. It ought to 
be chaff in her ,” — and then they began to woar again. 
Upon my word now, it hadn’t occurred to me certainly be- 
fore, but I don’t see notv that it was such a mistake. 
What’s the use of being so doosid particular about the 
sense of a widdle as long as it’s a good one ? Abthurd ! 

Well, after breakfast we went out for a stroll upon the 
lawn, and somehow or other Miss Chaffmgham paired off 
with me. She was a doosid stunning girl, you know. A 
fellah often talks about stunning girls, and when you see 
them they’re not so stunning after all ; but Lotty weally 
was a doosid stunning girl — fair eyes and beautifully 
blue, ha — no ! blue hair and fair — I (confound it, I 
always make that mistake when there’s more than ono 
adjectivo in a thentence) — I mean fair hair and beautifully 
blue eyes, and she had a way of looking at one that — that 
weally almost took one’s bweath away. I’ve often heard 
about a fellah’s falling in love. I never did tho mythelf, 
you know — at least not that I weckomember — I mean, 
weckollect — before that morning. But weally she did 
look so jolly bweaking her egg at bweakfast— so bewitch- 
ing when she smashed the shell all wound with her thpoon 
before she began to eat it — I, I weally began to feel almost 
thpooney mythelf. Ha, ha ! there I am at it again ; I weal- 


LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING. 83 

ly must bweak mythelf of this habit of joking ; it’s vewv 
low, you know— like a beathly clown in a b-beathly pan- 
tomime— I oughtn’t to have said beathly twice, I kqow. 
^ i fellah once told me, that if — if a man says the same ad- 
jective twico in one thentence he’s taught ological. But 
he’s wrong, you know — for /often do, and I’m sure I never 
was taught anything of the kind. 

However, Lotty was a stunning girl, and we walked all 
about the lawn — down into the shwubbery to look into 
some bush after a wobin wedbweast that she said had 
built a nest there — and, sure enough, when wo got to it, 
there was this weddin wob — I mean wobbin-wed — bweast 
looking out of a gweat lump of moss. I thought Lotty 
would be pleased if I caught it, and so I thwust my hand 
in as quick as I could, but you know those little wedding 
— wobbin — wed-bweasts are so doosid sharp, — and I’m 
dashed if it didn’t fly out on the other side. 

“You thtupid man,” Lotty thaid. “Why — you — you’ve 
fwitened the poor little thing away.” 

I was wather wild at first at being called thtupid, — that’s 
a sort of thing — no fellah likes, but — dash it ! I’d have 
stood anything from Lotty — I — I’d have carried her 
pwayer-book to church — I’d have parted my hair on one 
side — or — no — yes — I think I’d have thaved off my whis- 
kers for her thake. 

“Poor, dear little wobbin,” she said— “it will never 
come back any more ; I’m afraid you’ve made it desert.” 
What did she mean by that f I thought she meant the eggs, 
so, taking ono up, I said, “You— you don’t mean to thay 
• they eat these spccky things after dinner f ” I said. 

“ Of course not,” she weplied — and I think I had hit 
the wife nail on the head, for she began to laugh twemen- 
dously, and told me to put the egg quietly in its place, and 
then pwaps the little wobbin would come back. Which I 
hope the little beggar did. 

At the top of the long walk at Wockingham there is a 


84 


LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING. 


summer-house — a jolly sort of place, with a lot of ferns 
and things about, and behind there are a lot of shrubs and 
bushes and prickly plants, which give a sort of rural or 
wurwal — which is it ? blest if I know — look to the place, 
and as it was vewy warm, I thought if I’m ever to make 
an ath of mythelf by pwoposing to this girl — I won’t do it 
out in the eye of the sun — it’s so pwecious hot. So J pwo- 
posed we should walk in and sit down, and so we did, and 
then I began : 

“Miss Chaffingham, now, don’t you think it doosid 
cool ? ” 

“Cool, Lord D.,” she said; “why, I thought you were 
complaining of the heat. 

“I beg your pardon,” I said, “I — I — can’t speak vewy 
fast” (the fact is, that a beathly wasp was buthhing about 
me at the moment), “and I hadn’t quite finished my then- 
tence. I was going to say, Don’t you think it’s doosid 
cool of Wagsby to laugh at — at — a fellah as he does ? ” 

“Well, my Lord,” she said, “I think so, too; and I 
wonder you stand it. You — you have your remedy, you 
know.” 

“What remedy?” I said. “You — you don’t mean to 
say I ought to thwash him, Miss Charlotte?” 

Here she — she somehow began to laugh, but in such a 
peculiar way that I — I couldn’t think what she meant. 

“A vewy good idea,” I said. “ I’ve a vewy good mind 
to twy it. I had on the gloves once with a lay figure in a 
painter’s studio — and gave it an awful licking. It’s true 
— it didn’t hit back, you know — I — I did all — all the hit- 
ting then. And pwaps — pwaps Wagsby would hit back. 
But if — if he did anything so ungentlemanlike as that, I 
could always — always — ” 

“Always what, my Lord?” said Lotty, who was going 
on laughing in a most hysterical manner. 

“ Why, I could always say it was a mithtake, and— and 
it shouldn’t happen again, you know.” 


LORD DUNDREARY" PROPOSING. 


85 


“Admirable policy, upon my word/’ she said, and be- 
gan tittering again. But what the dooth amused her so I 
never could make out. Just then we heard a sort of rust- 
ling in the leaves behind, and I confess I felt wather ner- 
vouth. 

“It’s only a bird,” Lotty said; and then we began talk- 
ing of that little wobin-wedbreast, and what a wonderful 
thing Nature is — and how doosid pwetty it w r as to see her 
laws obeyed. And I said, “ 0 Miss Chaffingham ! ” I said 
“ if I was a wobin — ” 

“Yes, Dundreary,” she anthered — vewy soft and sweet. 
And I thought to mythelf — Now’s the time to ask her, — 
now’s the time to — I — I was beginning to wuminate again, 
but she bwought me to my thenses by saying — 

“ Yes ? ” inter woggatively. 

“ If I was a wobbin, Lotty, — and — and you were a wob- 
bin — ” I — exclaimed, — with a voice full of emothun. 

“ Well, my Lord ? ” 

“ Wouldn’t it be — jolly to have thpeckled eggs evewy 
morning for breakfast ? ” 

That wasn’t quite what I was going to say ; but just 
then there was another rustling behind the summer-house, 
and in wushed that bwute Wagsby. 

“ What’s the wow, Dundreary?” said he, grinning in a 
dweadfully idiotic sort of way. “Come, old fellow” (I — 
I hate a man who calls me old fellow, — it’s so beathly fa- 
miliar). And then he said he had come on purpose to fetch 
us back (confound him !) as they had just awwanged to 
start on one of those cold-meat excursions — no, that’s not 
the word, I know — but it has something to do with cold 
meat — pic — pickles, is it? — no, pickwick? pic — I have it 
— they wanted us to go picklicking, — I mean picknicking 
with them. 

Here was a disappointment. Just as I thought to 
have a nice little flirtation with Lotty — to be interwupted 
in this manner ! Was ever anything so pwovoking ? And 


86 


THE FIREMAN. 


all for a picnic — a thort of early dinner without chairs or 
tables, and a lot of flies in the muthtard ! I was in such a 
wage ! 

Of course I didn’t get another chance to say all I want- 
ed. I had lost my opportunity, and, I fear, made an ath 
of mvthelf. 


THE FIREMAN. 

HOBKKT T. CONRAD. 

The city slumbers. O’er its mighty walls 
Night’s dusky mantle soft and silent falls; 

Sleep o’er the world slow waves its wand of lead, 

An d ready torpors wrap each sinking head. 

Stilled is the stir of labor and of life ; 

Hushed is the hum, and tranquillized the strife. 

Man is at rest, with all his hopes and fears ; 

The young forget their sports, the old their cares ; 

The grave are careless ; those who joy or weep 
All rest contented on the arm of sleep. 

Sweet is the pillowed rest of beauty now, 

And slumber smiles upon her tranquil brow : 

Her bright dreams lead her to the moonlit tide, 

Her heart’s own partner wandering by her side ; 

’Tis summer’s eve ; the soft gales scarcely rouse 
The low- voiced ripple and the rustling boughs; 

And, faint and far, some minstrel’s melting tone 
Breathes to her heart a music like its own. 

When, hark ! Oh, horror ! what a crash is there ! 

What shriek is that which fills the midnight air? 

’Tis fire ! ’tis fire ! She wakes to dream no more ; 

The hot blast rushes through the blazing door; 

The dun smoke eddies round ; and, hark ! that cry : 

“ Help ! help ! Will no one aid ? I die, I die !” 

She seeks the casement ; shuddering at its height 
She turns again ; the fierce flames mock her flight ; 
Along the crackling stairs they fiercely play, 

And roar, exulting, as they seize their prey. 


PAUL REVERE’S RIDE. 


87 


•*' Help ! help ! Will no one come ?” She can no more, 
But, pale and breathless, sinks upon the floor. 

Will no one save thee ? Yes, there j T et is one 
Remains to save, when hope itself is gone ; 

When all have fled, when all but he would fly, 

The fireman comes, to rescue or to die. 

He mounts the stair — it wavers ’neath his tread ; 

He seeks the room, flames flashing round his head ; 

He bursts the door ; he lifts her prostrate frame, 

And turns again to brave the raging flame. 

The fire-blast smites him with its stifling breath ; 

The falling timbers menace him with death ; 

The sinking floors his hurried step betray, 

And ruin crashes round his desperate way ; 

Hot smoke obscures, ten thousand cinders rise, 

Yet still he staggers forward with his prize; 

He leaps from burning stair to stair. On ! on ! 

Courage ! One effort more, and all is won ! 

The stair is passed — the blazing hall is braved ; 

Still on ! yet on ! once more ! Thank Heaven, she’, 
saved ! 


PAUL REVERE’S RIDE. 

H. W, LONG 

Listen, my children, and you shall hear 
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, 

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five : 

Hardly a man is now alive 

Who remembers that famous day and year. 

He said to his friend — “If the British march 
By land or sea from the town to-night, 

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch 

Of the North Church tower, as a signal-light— 

One if by land, and two if by sea ; 

And I on the opposite shore will be, 

Ready to ride and spread the alarm 


88 


PAUL REVEKE’S RIDE. 


Through every Middlesex village and farm, 

For the country-folk to be up and to arm.” 

Then he said good-night, and with muffled oar 
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, 

Just as the moon rose over the bay, 

Where, swinging wide at her moorings, lay 
The Somerset, British man-of-war : 

A phantom ship, with each mast and spar 
Across the moon like a prison-bar. 

And a huge black hulk, that was magnified 
By its own reflection in the tide. 

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street 
Wanders .and watches with eager ears, 

Till in the silence around him he hears 
The muster of men at the barrack-door. 

The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, 

And the measured tread of the grenadiers 
Marching down to their boats on the shore. 

Then he climbed to the tower of the church. 
Up the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread, 

To the belfry -chamber overhead. 

And startled the pigeons from their perch 
On the sombre rafters, that round him made 
Masses and moving shapes of shade — 

Up the light ladder, slender and tall. 

To the highest window in the wall, 

Where he paused to listen and look down 
A moment on the roofs of the quiet town, 

And the moonlight flowing over all. 

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead 
In their night- encampment on the hill, 
Wrapped in silence so deep and still 
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread, 

The watchful night- wind, as it went 
Creeping along from tent to tent, 

And seeming to whisper, “All is well !” 

A moment only he feels the spell 


PAUL REVERE'S RIDE. 


89 


Of the place and the hour, the secret dread 
Of the lonely belfry and the dead ; 

For suddenly all his thoughts are bent 
On a shadowy something far away, 

Where the river widens to meet the bay — 

A line of black, that bends and floats 
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. 

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, 

Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride, 

On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. 

Now he patted his horse's side, 

Now gazed on the landscape far and near, 

Then impetuous stamped the earth, 

And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; 

But mostly he watched with eager search 
The belfry tower of the old North Church, 

As it rose above the graves on the hill. 

Lonely, and spectral, and sombre, and still. 

And lo ! as he looks, on the belfry's height, 

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light ! 

He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, 

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight 
A second lamp in the belfry bums ! 

A hurry of hoofs in a village street, 

A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 

And beneath from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 
Struck out by a steed that flies fearless and fleet : 

That was all ! And yet, through the gloom and the light, 
The fate of a nation was riding that night ; 

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 
Kindled the land into flame with its heat. 

It was twelve by the village-clock 

WTien he crossed the bridge into Medford town ; 

He heard the crowing of the cock 
And the barking of the farmer's dog 
And felt the damp of the river-fog 
That rises when the sun goes down. 


PAUL RE VERE’S RIDE. 


yo 

It was one by the village-clock 
WTien he rode into Lexington. 

He saw the gilded weathercock 
Swim in the moonlight as he passed, 

And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, 
Gaze at him with a spectral glare, 

As if they already stood aghast 

At the bloody work they would look upon. 

It was two by the village-clock 

When he came to the bridge in Concord town. 

He heard the bleating of the flock, 

And the twitter of birds among the trees, 

And felt the breath of the morning breeze 
Blowing over the meadows brown. 

And one was safe and asleep in his bed 
Who at the bridge would be first to fall, 

Who that day would be lying dead, 

Pierced by a British musket-ball. 

You know the rest. In the books you have read 
How the British regulars fired and fled — 

How the farmers gave them ball for ball, 

From behind each fence and farmyard-wall, 
Chasing the red-coats down the lane, 

Then crossing the fields to emerge again 
Under the trees at the turn of the road, 

And only pausing to fire and load. 

So through the night rode Paul Revere ; 

And so through the night went his cry of alarm 
To every Middlesex village and farm — 

A cry of defiance and not of fear — 

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, 

And a word that shall echo for evermore ! 

For, borne on the night- wind of the Past, 
Through all our history, to the last, 

In the hour of darkness, and peril, and need, 

The people will waken and listen to hear 
The hurrying hoof-beat of that steed, 

And the midnight message of Paul Revere. 


ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PKAYEK. 


91 


ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PRAYER. 

A PATHETIC BECITATION. sop.ua p. snow. 

'Twas the eve before Christmas, “ Good night” had been said, 
And Annie and Willie had crept into bed : 

There were tears on their pillows, and tears in their eyes. 

And each little bosom was heaving with sighs. 

For to-night their stem father’s command had been given 
That they should retire precisely at seven — 

Instead of eight — for they troubled him more 
With questions unheard of than ever before ; 

He told them he thought this delusion a sin — 

No such creature as “ Santa Claus” ever had been, 

And he hoped, after this, he should nevermore hear 
How he scrambled down chimneys with presents each year. 
And this was the reason that two little heads 
So restlessly tossed on their soft, downy beds. 

Eight, nine, and the clock on the steeple tolled ten, 

Not a word had been spoken by either till then, 

When Willie’s sad face from the blanket did peep, 

As he whispered, “Dear Annie, is 'ou fast aseepf' 

“ Why no, brother Willie,” a sweet voice replies, 

“ I’ve long tried in vain, but I can't shut my eyes, 

For somehow it makes me so sorry because 
Dear papa has said there is no 4 Santa Claus.' 

Now we know there is, and it can’t be denied, 

For he came every year before mamma died, 

But then I’ve been thinking that she used to pray, 

And God would hear everything mamma would say, 

And maybe she asked Him to send Santa Claus here 
With the sack full of presents he brought every year.” 

“ Well, why tan’t we pay dest as mamma did den, 

And ask Dod to send him with pesents adenf' 

“ I’ve been thinking so too,” and without a word more 
Four little bare feet bounded out on the floor, 

And four little knees the soft carpet pressed, 

And two tiny hands were clasped close to each breast. 


92 


ANNIE AND WILLIE’S PKAYER. 


“Now, "Willie, you know we must firmly believe 
That the presents we ask for we’re sure to receive ; 

You must wait just as still till I say the 'Amen/ 

And by that you will know that your turn has come then. 

“ Dear Jesus, look down on my brother and me, 

And grant us the favor we are asking of Thee. 

I want a wax dolly, a tea-set, and ring, 

And an ebony work-box that shuts with a spring. 

Bless papa, dear Jesus, and cause him to see 
That Santa Claus loves us as much as does he ; 

Don’t let him get fretful and angry again 
At dear brother Willie and Annie. Amen." 

“ Please, Desus, et Santa Taus turn down to-night, 

And bing us some pesents before it is ight ; 

I want he should div’ me a nice ittle sed, 

With bright shinin unners and all painted red ; 

A box full of tandy, a book and a toy,. 

Amen, and then, Desus, I’ll be a dood boy." 

Their prayers being ended, they raised up their heads, 

And, with hearts light and cheerful, again sought their beds. 
They were soon lost in slumbers, both peaceful and deep, 

And with fairies in Dreamland were roaming in sleep. 

Eight, nine, and the little French clock had struck ten, 

Ere the father had thought of his children again : 

He seems now to hear Annie’s half suppressed sighs, 

And to see the big tears stand in Willie’s blue eyes. 

“ I was harsh with my darlings," he mentally said, 

• “And should not have sent them so early to bed ; 

But then I was troubled ; my feelings found vent, 

For bank stock to-day has gone down ten per cent. 

But of course they’ve forgotten their troubles ere this, 

And that I denied them the thrice-asked-for kiss : 

But just to make sure, I’ll steal up to their door, 

For I never spoke harsh to my darlings before." 

So saying, he softly ascended the stairs, 

And arrived at the door to hear both of their prayers. 

His Anme’s “ Bless Papa" drew forth the big tears, 

And Willie’s grave promise fell sweet on his ears. 

“ Strange — strange — I’d forgotten," said he, with a sigh, 

“ How I longed when a child to have Christmas draw nigh. 


ANNIE AND WILLIE’S PRAYER. 


93 


I’ll atone for my harshness,” he inwardly said, 

“ By answering their prayers ere I sleep in my bed.” 
Then turned to the stairs and softly went down, 

Threw off velvet slippers and silk dressing gown, 

Donned hat, coat, and boots, and was out in the street — 
A millionaire facing the cold, driving sleet ! 

Hor stopped he until he had bought everything, 

From the box full of candy to the tiny gold ring; 

Indeed, he kept adding so much to his store, 

That the various presents outnumbered a score, 

Then homeward he turned, when his holiday load, 

■With Aunt Mary’s help in the nursery was stowed; 

Mjps Dolly was seated beneath a pine tree 
By the side of a table spread out for her tea ; 

A work-box well filled in the centre was laid, 

And on it the ring for which Annie had prayed ; 

A soldier in uniform stood by a sled 
“With bright, shining runners, and all painted red.” 
There were balls, dogs, and horses, books pleasing to see, 
And birds of all colors were perched in the tree ; 

While Santa Claus, laughing, stood up in the top, 

As if getting ready more presents to drop. 

And, as the fond father the picture surveyed, 

He thought for his trouble he had amply been paid ; 

And he said to himself as he brushed off a tear, 

“ I’m happier to-night than I’ve been for a year ; 

I’ve enjoyed more true pleasure than ever before, 

What care I if bank stock falls ten per cent, more ! 
Hereafter I’ll make it a rule, I believe, 

To have Santa Claus visit ns each Christmas Eve 
So thinking, he gently extinguished the light, 

And, tripping down stairs, he retired for the night. 

As soon as the beams of the bright morning sun 
Put the darkness to flight, and the stars, one by one, 
Four little blue eyes out of sleep opened wide, 

And, at the same moment, the presents espied : 

Then out of their beds they sprang with a bound, 

And the very gifts prayed for were all of them found. 
They laughed and they cried, in their innocent glee, 

And shouted for papa to come quick and see 


94 


A FRENCHMAN ON MACBETH. 


What preseuts old Santa Clans brought in the night, 
(Just the things that they wanted), and left before light. 
“ And now/’ added Annie, in voice soft and low, 

“ You’ll believe there’s a ‘Santh, Claus/ papa; I know;” 
While dear little Willie climbed up on his knee, 
Determined no secret between them should be, 

And told in soft whispers how Annie had said 
That their dear blessed mamma, so long ago dead, 

Used to kneel down and pray by the side of her chair, 
And that God up in heaven had answered her prayer. 
“Den we dot up and prayed dust as well as we tould, 
And Dod answered our prayers ; now wasn’t He dood?” 
“I should say that He was if He sent you all these, . 
And knew just what presents my children would please. 
(Well, well, let him think so, the dear little elf, 

’Twould be cruel to tell him I did it myself.”) 

Blind father ! who caused your stern heart to relent, 

And the hasty words spoken so soon to repent ? 

’Twas the Being who bade you steal softly up stairs, 

And made you his agent to answer their prayers. 


A FRENCHMAN ON MACBETH. 

An enthusiastic French student of Shakespeare thus 
comments on the tragedy of Macbeth : — 

“Ah! your Mossieu’ Shak-es-pier ! He isg-r-aii-nd — 
mvsterieuse — soo-blime ! You ave reads ze Macabess? — ze 
scene of ze Mossieu’ Macabess vis ze Vitek — ehf Superb 
sooblimitee ! W’en he say to ze Vitek, ‘Ar-r-r-oynt ze, Vitch !’ 
she go away : but what she say when she go away? She 
say she will do s’omesing dat aves got no naamo ! ‘Ah, ha !’ 
she say, ‘ I go, like ze r-r-aa-t vizout ze tail — but , I’ll do ! 
I’ll do ! I’ll do!’ W’at she do? Ah, ha! — voila le graand 
mysterieuse Mossieu’ Shak-es-pier ! She not say what 
she do !” 

This tvas “grand,” to be sure; but the prowess of Mac- 


THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN. 


95 


beth, in his “ bout " with Macduff, awakens all the mercu- 
rial Frenchman’s martial ardor : — 

“Mossieu’ Macabess, he see him come, clos’by: he 
say (proud cmpressement), 1 Come o-o-n, Mossieu’ Macduffs, 
and d — d be he who first say Enojfs ! ’ Zen zey fi-i-ght — • 
moche. Ah, ha! — voila! Mossieu’ Macabess, vis his 
br-r-right r-r-appier 1 pink ’ him, vat you call, in his body. 
He ’ave gots mal d’estomac : he say, vis grand simplicity 
‘ Enoffs /’ What for he say ‘Enoffs’? ’Cause he got 
enoffs — plaanty ; and he expire, r-r-ight away, ’mediately, 
pretty quick ! Ah, mes amis, Mossieu’ Shak-es-pier is ris- 
ing man in La Belle France ! ” 


THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN. 

WILL m. carlkton. 

They’ve got a bran new organ, Sue, 

For all their fuss and search ; 

They’ve done just as they said they’d do, 

And fetched it into church. 

They’re bound the critter shall be seen, 

And on the preacher’s right 

They’ve hoisted up their new machine 
In everybody’s sight. 

They’ve got a chorister and choir, 

Agin my voice and vote; 

For it was never my desire 
To praise the Lord by note. 

I’ve been a sister good and true 
For five an’ thirty year ; 

I’ve done what seemed my part to do, 

An’ prayed my duty clear; 

I’ve sung the hymns both slow and quick, 

Just as the preacher read, 

And twice, when Deacon Tubbs was sick, 

I took the fork an’ led ! 


THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN. 


9 C> 


And now, their bold, new-fangled ways 
Is cornin’ all about ; 

And I, right in my latter days, 

Am fairly crowded out. 

To-day the preacher, good old dear, 
"With tears all in his eyes, 

Read — “ I can read my title clear 
To mansions in the skies.” 

I al’ays liked that blessed hymn — 

I s’pose I al’ays will ; 

It somehow gratifies my whim, 

In good ole Ortonville; 

But when that choir got up to sing, 

I couldn’t catch a word ; 

They sung the most dog-gondest thing 
A body ever heard ! 

Some wordly chaps was standin’ near, 
An’ when I seed them grin, 

I bid farewell to every fear, 

And boldly waded in. 

I thought I’d chase their tune along, 

An’ tried with all my might ; 

But though my voice is good an’ strong, 
I couldn’t steer it right ; 

When they was high, then I was low, 
An’ also contra wise ; 

And I too fast, or they too slow, 

To “mansions in the skies.” 

An’ after every verse, you know 
They played a little tune 

I didn’t understand, an’ so 
I started in too soon. 

I pitched it pretty middlin’ high, 

I fetched a lusty tone, 

But oh, alas ! I found that I 
Was singin’ there alone! 

They laughed a little, I am told ; 

But I had done my best ; 


THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN. 


1)7 


And not a wave of trouble rolled 
Across my peaceful breast. 

And Sister Brown — I could but look — 
She sits right front of me ; 

She never was no singin’ book, 

An’ never went to be ; 

But then she al’ays tried to do 
The best she could, she said ; 

See understood the time, right through, 
An’ kep’ it, with her head ; 

But when she tried this moruin,’ oh, 

I had to laugh, or cough ! 

It kep’ her head a bobbin' so, 

It e’en a’most came off 1 

An’ Deacon Tubbs — he all broke down. 
As one might well suppose ; 

He took one look at Sister Brown, 

An’ meekly scratched his nose ; 

He looked his hymn right thro’ and thro’ 
And laid it on the seat, 

An’ then a pensive sigh he drew, 

An’ looked completely beat. 

An’ when they took another bout. 

He didn’t even rise, 

But drawed his red bandanna out, 

An’ wiped his weepin’ eyes. 

I’ve been a sister good an’ true 
For five and thirty year ; 

I’ve done what seemed my part to do. 
An’ prayed my duty clear : 

But death will* stop my voice, I know, 
For he is on my track ; 

An’ some day I to church will go, 

An’ never more come back ; 

An’ when the folks get up to sing — 
Whene’er that time shall be — 

I do not want no patent thing 
A squealin’ over me ! 


98 


KATRINA LIKES ME TOODY YELL. 


KATRINA LIKES ME POODY VELL. 

OOFTY GOOKT. 

Somedimes ven I’m a feeling bad. 

Cause dings dey don’d go righd, 

I gid so kinder awful sick, 

Und lose my abbedide. 

Und ven I go me to der house, 

Und by dot daple sit, 

Dot widdles makes me feel gwide bale, 

Und I don’d kin ead a bit. 

My head dot shbins arount unt rount, 

Und my eyes dem look so vild, 

Dot of my mudder she was dere, 

She voodn’d know her shild. 

Dot is der dime Katrina comes, 

Und nice vords she does dell, 

Mit her heart a busding oud mit loaf, 

For she likes me poody veil. 

She gifes me efery kind of dings 
Dot she dinks will done me goot ; 

She cooks me shblendid sassage mead, 

Und oder kinds of foot ; 

She ties vet rags arount my head 
"When dot begins to shvell, 

Und soaks my feet mit Brandred’s bills, 

For she likes me poody veil. 

She sings me nice und poody songs, 

Mit a woice dot’s shweed und glear, 

Und says, “ Dot of I vas to die 
She voodn’d leef a year.” 

Of dot aind so, or if id is, 

I don’d vas going to dell ; 

But dis much I am villing to shwore — 

She likes me poody veil. 


HOW TO SAVE A THOUSAND POUNDS. 


99 


HOW TO SAVE A THOUSAND POUNDS. 

AS DELIVERED BY MR. HARLEY. anon 

Hazard, a careless fellow, known 
At every gambling-house in town — 

Was oft in want of money, yet 
Could never bear to run in debt ; 

Because ’twas thought no man was willing 
To give him credit for a shilling. 

Dependent on Dame Fortune’s will, 

He threw the dice, or well, or ill ; 

This day in rags — the next in lace, 

J ust as happened — a six or ace ; 

Was oftentimes, when not a winner, 

Uncertain where to get a dinner. 

One day, when cruel Fortune’s frown 
Had stripped him of his last half-crown, 
Sauntering along, in sorry mood, 

Hungry, perhaps, for want of food, 

A parlor window struck his eye, 

Through which our hero chanced to spy 
A jolly round-faced personage, 

Somewhat about the middle age, 

Partaking a luxurious meal — 

For ’twas a noble loin of veal ; 

And such a sight, I need not mention, 

Quickly arrested his attention ; 

Surely, thought he, I know that face, 

I’ve seen it at some other place ; 

I recollect, ’twas at the play, 

And there I heard some people say, 

“ How rich this fellow was, and what 
A handsome daughter he had got.” 

“ That dinner would exactly do — 

A loin of veal’s enough for two — 

Could not I strike out some way 
To get an introduction ! — Eh ? 


100 


HOW TO SAVE A THOUSAND POUNDS. 


Most likely ’tis — I may endeavor 
In vain ! — but come, I’ll try, however.” 

And now he hesitates no more- 
Thunders a rat-tat at the door, 

And lest that method might not suit, 

They say he rang the bell to boot. 

The parti-colored footman come ; 

“ Pray is your master, sir, at home ?” 

“ My master, sir, is at home, but busy.” 

‘‘Then he’s engaged,” quoth Hazard, “is he?” 
(In a voice as loud as he could bellow) 

“I’m very sorry, my good fellow, 

It happens so, because I could 
Your master do some little good ; 

A speculation that I know 

Might save a thousand pounds, or so ; 

Ho matter, friend, your master tell 
Another day will do as well.” 

“ What’s that you say ?” the master cries, 
(With pleasure beaming from his eyes, 

And napkin tucked beneath his chin, 

Bouncing from parlor, whence within 
He’d heard those joy -inspiring sounds, 

Of saving him a thousand pounds.) 

“ My dear sir, what is that you say ?” 

“Sir, I can call another day, 

Your dinner I’ve disturb’d, I fear.” 

“ Do, pray sir, take your dinner here ; 

You’ll find a welcome, warm and hearty.” 

“ I shall intrude upon your party.” 

“ There’s not a soul but I and you.” 

“Well then, I don’t care if I do.” 

Our spark’s design so far completed, 

Behold him at the table seated, 

Playing away, as well he might, 

With some degree of appetite. 

Our host, who willing would have press’d 
The thousand pounds upon his guest. 


HOW TO SAVE A THOUSAND POUNDS. 


101 


Still thought it would not be genteel 
To interrupt him at his meal, 

Which seemed so fully to employ him, 
Talking might probably annoy him ; 

So thought it proper he should wait 
Till after dinner the debate. • 

And now “ the King and Constitution,” 
With u III success to Revolution,” 

And many a warm and loyal toast 
Had been discussed, when our good host 
Thought it was almost time to say, 

“ Let’s move the order of the day.” 
Indeed, he hardly could help thinking 
'Twas rather odd — his guest was drinking 
The business not a jot the nearer — 

A second bottle of Madeira; 

And that he seemed to sit and chatter 
’Bout this and that, and t’other matter, 

As if he’d not the least intention 
This thousand pounds of his to mention ; 
Much did he wish to give a hint, 

Yet knew not how he should begin ’t. 

At length — “ Sir, you’ve forgot, I fear, 
The business that has brought you here ? 

I think you gave some intimation 
About a saving speculation.” 

“ Ay, sir, you’ll find it not amiss ; 

My speculation’s simply this — 

I hear you have a daughter, sir.” 

“ A daughter ? well, and what of her ? 
What can my daughter have to do 
With this affair ’twixt me and you ?” 

“ I mean to make your daughter (craving 
Your pardon, sir,) the means of saving 
The sum I mentioned ; you’ll allow 
My scheme is feasible .” — u As how?” 

“ Why, thus : — I hear you’ve no objection 
To form some conjugal connection 


102 


HOW I GOT INVITED TO DINNER. 


For this same daughter .” — “ .No ; provided 
All other matters coincided.” 

“ Then, sir, 111 suit ye to a hair ; 

Pray, is she not extremely fair ?” 

“ Why, yes ; there’s many folks who praise her : 
But what is beauty now-a-days, sir?” 

“ Ay, true, sir ! nothing without wealth ; 

But, come, suppose we drink her health.” 

“ Indeed, I’ve drank enough already.” 

“ Oh, fie ! consider, sir, a lady ; 

By rights we should have drank her first — 

Pray fill.” — “ Well, if I must — I must.” 

“ And, pray, what age, sir, may she be ?” 

“ God bless me — she’s twenty-three.” 

“ Just twenty-three, faith, a rare age ! 

Sir, you were speaking of her marriage.” 

“ I was — and wished to know, in case 
Such an occurrence should take place, 

The sum it might be in your power 
To give with her, by way of dower?” 

“ Well, sir — then this is my intent — 

If married with my own consent, 

I’ve no objection, on such grounds, 

To pay her down ten thousand pounds.” 

“ Ten thousand, sir, I think you say.” 

“I do.” — “ What, on the marriage day?” 

“The whole.” — “Then let her, sir be mine, 

I’ll take her off your hands with nine.” 


HOW I GOT INVITED TO DINNER. 

RELATED BY MR. HOWARD PAUL, IN THE CHARACTER OF MAJOR JONATHAN 
BANG, IN HI3 ENTERTAINMENT. 

My gettin’ the better of my wife’s father is one of the 
richest things on record. 

Ill tell yeou heow it was. You must know that he is 
monstrous stingy. The complaint seems to run in the 


HOW I GOT INVITED TO DINNER. 


103 


family, and everybody reonnd our parts used to notice 
that he never by any chance asked anybody to dine with 
him. So one day, jist for a chunk of fun, I said tew a 
friend of mine, Jeddy Dowkins — a dreadful nice feller is 
Jeddv — “ Fll bet you a cent’s worth of shoe-strings ginst a 
row of pins, that I get old Ben Merkins, that’s my wife’s 
father, to ask me to dinner.” 

“ Yeou get eout,” said Jeddy ; “ why, you might as well 
try to coax a cat into a shower-bath, or git moonbeams 
eout of cowcumbers.” 

“ Well,” said I, “ I’m going to try.” 

And try I did, and I’ll tell yeou how I went to work. 

Jist as old Ben was sittin’ down to dinner, at one o’ 
clock, I rushed up to his house, at a high-pressure pace, 
red-hot in the face, with my coat-tails in the air, and my 
eyes rollin’ about like billiard-balls in convulsions. Rat- 
tat-tat — ding-a-ling-a-ling. I kicked up an awful rumpus, 
and in a flash out came old Ben himself. I had struck the 
right minnit. He had a napkin under his chin, and a 
carvin’ knife in his hand. I smelt the dinner as he opened 
the door. 

“Oh, Mr. Merkins,” said I, “ I’m tarnation glad to see 
you. I feared you moughtn’t be at home — I’m almost out 
of breath. I’m come to tell you I can save you a thou- 
sand dollars !” 

“A thousand dollars !” roared the old man ; and I defy 
a weasel to go “ pop” quicker than his face burst into 
smiles. “ A thousand dollars ! Yeou don’t say so ! du 
tell !” 

“Oh,” said I, “ I see you are jist havin’ dinner neouw. 
I’ll go an’ dine myself, and then I’ll come back and tell 
yeou all about it.” 

“ Nonsense,” said he, “ don’t go away ; come in and sit 
down and enjoy yourself, like a good fellow, and have a 
snack with me. I’m anxious to hear what you have to say.” 

I pretended to decline, sayin’ “ I’d come back but 


104 


PATIENT JOE. 


I’d thoroughly stirred up the old chap’s curiosity, and it 
ended by his fairly pullin’ me into the house, and I made a 
rattlin’ dinner of pork and beans. I managed for some 
time to dodge the main p’int of his inquiry. At last I 
finished eating, and there was no further excuse for delay ; 
besides, old Ben was getting fidgety. 

“Come, neouw,” said he, “no more preface. About 
that thousand dollars j come, let it eout !” 

“ Well, I’ll tell you what,” said I, “ yeou have a darter, 
Misery Ann, to dispose of in marriage, have you not 

“ What’s that got to do with it ?” interrupted he. 

“ Hold your proud steeds — don’t run off the track — a 
great deal to do with it,” said I. “ Neouw answer my ques- 
tion.” 

“Well,” said he, “ I have.” 

“ And you intend, when she marries, to give her ten 
thousand dollars for a portion ?” 

“ I do,” he said. 

“ Well, neouw, here’s the p’int I’m coming tew. Let 
me have her, and I’ll take her with nine thousand : and 
nine thousand from ten thousand, accordin’ to simple ad- 
dition, jist leaves one thousand, and that will be clean 
profit — saved as slide as a whistle /” 

The next thing I knew, there was a rapid interview 
goin’ on between old Ben’s foot and my coat-tails — and I’m 
inclined to think the latter got the worst of it. 


PATIENT JOE. 

A SERIOUS RECITATION. 

Have you heard of a collier, of honest renown, 
Who dwelt on the borders of Newcastle Town ? 
His name it was Joseph — you better may know 
If I tell you he always was called Patient Joe. 


PATIENT JOE. 


105 


Whatever betided, he thought it was right, 

And Providence still he kept ever in sight ; 

To those who love God, let things turn as they would, 

He was certain that all worked together for good. 

He praised his Creator, whatever befell ! 

How thankful was Joseph when matters went well ! 

How sincere were his carols of praise for good health, 

And how grateful for any increase in his wealth ! 

In trouble he bowed him to God’s holy will, 

How contented was Joseph when matters went ill ! 

When rich and when poor, he alike understood 
That all things together were working for good. 

If the land was afflicted with war, he declared 
'Twas a needful correction for sins, which he shared ; 

And when merciful Heaven bid slaughter to cease, 

How thankful was Joe for the blessings of peace ! 

When taxes ran high and provisions were dear. 

Still Joseph declared he had nothing to fear ; 

It was but a trial, he well understood. 

From Him who made all work together for good. 

Though his wife was but sickly, his gettings but small, 

A mind so submissive prepared him for all ; 

He lived on his gains, were they greater or less, 

And the Giver he ceased not each moment to bless. 

It was Joseph’s ill fortune to work in a pit 
With some who believed that profaneness was wit ; 

When disasters befell him, much pleasure they showed, 
And laughed and said, “ Joseph, will this work for good ? ” 

But ever when these would profanely advance 

That this happened by luck, and that happened by chance. 

Still Joseph insisted no chance could be found, 

Hot a sparrow by accident falls to the ground. 

Among his companions who worked in the pit. 

And made him the butt of their profligate wit, 

Was idle Tim Jenkins, who drank and who gamed, 

Who mocked at his Bible and was not ashamed. 


IOC 


JIMMY BUTLEE AND THE OWL. 


One day at the pit his old comrades he found, 

And Uiey enacted, preparing to go under ground ; 

Tim J enidus, as usual, was turning to jest 

Joe’s notion — that ail things which happened were best. 

As Joe on the ground had unthinkingly laid 
His provision for dinner of bacon and bread, 

A dog, on the watch, seized the bread and the meat, 

And off with his prey ran with footsteps so fleet. 

Now to see the delight that Tim Jenkins expressed ! 

“Is the loss of thy dinner too, Joe, for the best!” 

“ No doubt on’t,” said Joe, “but as I must eat, 

'Tis my duty to try to recover my meat.” 

So saying, he followed the dog a long round, 

While Tim, laughing and swearing, went down under 
ground. 

Poor Joe soon returned, though his bacon was lost 
For the dog a good dinner had made at his cost. 

When Joseph came back, he expected a sneer ; 

But the face of each collier spoke horror and fear. 

“What a narrow escape hast thou had !” they all said ; 
“The pit has fallen in, and Tim Jenkins is dead.” 

How sincere was the gratitude Joseph expressed ! 

How warm the compassion which glowed in his breast ! 
Thus events, great and small, if aright understood, 

Will be found to be working together for good. 

“ When my meat,” Joseph cried, “ was just stolen away, 
And I had no prospect of eating to-day, 

How could it appear to a short-sighted sinner 
That my life would be saved by the loss of my dinner ! 


JIMMY BUTLER AND THE OWL. 

AN IRISH STORY. # anonymous. 

’Twas in the summer of ’40 that I landed at Hamilton, 
fresh as a new pratie just dug from the “ould sod,” and 
wida light heart and a heavy bundle I sot off for the 


JIMMY BUTLER AND THE OWL. 


107 


township of Buford, tiding a taste of a song, as merry a 
young fellow as iver took the road. Well, 1 trudged on 
and on, past many a plisint place, pleasin’ myself wid the 
thought that some day 1 might have a place of my own, 
wid a world of chickens and ducks and pigs and cliilder 
about the door ; and along in the afternoon of the sicond 
day 1 got to Buford village. A cousin of me mother’s, one 
Dennis O’Dowd, lived about sivin miles from there, and 
I wanted to make his place that night, so I inquired the 
way at the tavern, and was lucky to find a man who was 
goin’ part of the way an’ would show me the way to find 
Dennis. Sure he was very kind indade, an’ when I got 
out of his wagon he pointed me through the wood and 
tould me to go straight south a mile an’ a half, and the 
first house would be Dennis’s. 

“ An’ you’ve no time to lose now,” said he, “for the 
sun is low, and mind you don’t get lost in the woods.” 

“Is it lost now,” said I, “that I’d be gittin, an’ me 
uncle as great a navigator as iver steered a ship across the 
thrackless say ! Not a bit of it, though I’m obleeged to ye 
for your kind advice, and thank yiz for the ride.” 

An’ wid that he drove off an’ left me alone. I shoul- 
dered me bundle bravely, an’ whistlin’ a bit of time for 
company like, I pushed into the bush. Well, I went a 
long way over bogs, and turnin’ round among the bush 
an’ trees till I began to think I must be well nigh to Den- 
nis’s. But, bad cess to it! all of a sudden I came out 
of the woods at the very identical spot where I started in, 
which I knew r by an ould crotched tree that seemed to be 
standin’ on its head an’ kickin’ up its heels to make divar- 
sion of me. By this time it was growin’ dark, and as 
there was no time to lose, I started in a second time, de- 
termined to keep straight south this time, and no mistake. 
I got on bravely for a while, but och hone ! och hone ! it 
got so dark I couldn’t see the trees, and I bumped me 
nose and barked me shins, while the miskaties bit me 


108 


JIMMY BUTLEE AXD THE OWL. 


hands and face to a blister ; an 7 after tumblin' and stum- 
blin around till I was fairly bamfoozled, I sat down on a 
log, all of a trimble, to think that I was lost intirely, an 7 
that maybe a lion or some other wild craythur would de- 
vour me before morning. 

Just then I heard somebody a long way off say, “Whip 
poor Will ! 77 “Bedad ! 77 sez I, “ I 7 m glad it isn't Jamie 
that's got to take it, though it seems it’s more in sorrow 
than in anger they are doin' it, or why should they say, 
i poor Will 7 ? an 7 sure they can’t be Injin, haythin, or nay- 
gur, for it's plain English they’re afther spakin 7 . May- 
be they might help me out o' this , 77 so I shouted at the 
top of my voice, “ A lost man ! 77 Thin I listened. Prisent- 
ly an answer came. 

“Who? Whoo? Whooo ?” 

“ Jamie Butler, the waiver ! 77 sez I, as loud as I could 
roar, an 7 snatchin 7 up 'me bundle an 7 stick, I started in the 
direction of the voice. Whin I thought I had got near 
the place I stopped and shouted again. “ A lost man !” 

“Who! Whoo! Whooo!” saida voice right over my 
head. 

“ Sure,” thinks I, “ it’s a mighty quare place for a man 
to be at this time of night ; maybe it’s some settler scra- 
pin’ sugar off a sugar bush for the children's breakfast in 
the mornin 7 . But where’s Will and the rest of them ?” All 
this wint through me head like a flash, an 7 thin I answer- 
ed his inquiry. 

“Jamie Butler, the waiver,” sez I ; “ and if it wouldn't 
inconvanience yer honor, would yez be kind enough to 
step down and show me the way to the house of Dennis 
O'Dowd f 77 

“ Who ! Whoo ! Whooo !” sez he. 

“Dennis O’Dowd!” sez I, civil enough, “and a dacent 
man he is, and first cousin to me own mother.” 

“ Who ! Who ! Whooo !" sez he again. 

“Me mother!” sez I, “and as fine a woman as iver 


JIMMY BUTLER AND THE OWL. 109 

peeled a biled pratie wid her thumb nail, and her maiden 
name was Molly McFiggin.” 

“ Who ! Who ! Whooo !” 

“ Paddy McFiggin ! bad luck to yer deaf ould head, 
Paddy McFiggin, I say — do ye hear that? An’ he was 
the tallest man in all the county Tipperary, excipt Jim 
Doyle, the blacksmith.” 

“ Who ! Whoo! Whooo!” 

“ Jim Doyle the blacksmith,” sez I “ye good for noth- 
in’ blaggurd nagur, and if yiz don’t come down and show 
me the way this min’t I’ll climb up there and break every 
bone in your skin, ye spalpeen, so sure as ine name is Jim- 
my Butler !” 

“Who Whoo! Whooo !” sez he, as impident as iver. 

I said niver a word, but lavin’ down me bundle, and 
takin’ me stick in me teeth, I began to climb the tree. 
Whin I got among the branches I looked quietly around 
till I saw a pair of big eyes just forninst me. 

“Whist,” sez I, “and I’ll let him have a taste of an 
Irish stick,” and wid that I let drive and lost me balance 
an’ came tumblin’ to the ground, nearly breakin’ me neck 
wid the fall. Whin I came to me sinsis I had a very sore 
head wid a lump on it like a goose egg, and half of me 
Sunday coat-tail torn off intirely. I spoke to the chap in 
the tree, but could git niver an answer at all, at all. 

Sure, thinks I, he must have gone home to rowl up his 
head, for by the powers I didn’t throw me stick for noth- 
in’. 

Well, by this time the moon was up and I could see a 
little, and I detarmined to make one more effort to reach 
Dennis’s. 

I wint on cautiously for a while, an’ thin I heard a bell. 
“ Sure,” sez I, “ I’m cornin’ to a settlement now, for I hear 
the church bell.” I kept on toward the sound till I came 
to an ould cow wid a bell on. She started to run, but I 
was too quick for her, and got her by the tail and hung on, 


110 


THE MENAGERIE. 


thinkin’ that maybe she would take me out of the woods. 
On we wint, like an ould country steeple chase, till, sure 
enough, we came out to a clearin’ and a house in sight wid 
a light in it. So, leavin’ the ould cow puffin’ and blowin’ 
in a shed, I went to the house, and as luck would have it, 
whose should it be but Dennis’s ? 

He gave me a raal Irish welcome, and introduced me to 
his two daughters — as purty a pair of girls as iver ye 
clapped an eye on. But whin I tould him me adventure in the 
woods, and about the fellow who made fun of me, they all 
laughed and roared, and Dinnis said it was an owl. 

“ An ould what f” sez I. 

“ Why, an owl, a bird,” sez he. 

u Do ye tell me now?” sez I. “ Sure it’s a quare coun- 
try and a quare bird.” 

And thin they all laughed again, till at last I laughed 
myself, that hearty like, and dropped right into a chair 
between the two purty girls, and the ould chap winked at 
me and roared again. 

Dinnis is me father-in-law now, and he often yet de- 
lights to tell our children about their daddy’s adventure 
wid the owl. 


THE MENAGERIE. 

• J. HONEYWKLL. 

Did you ever ! No, I never! 

Mercy on us, what a smell ! 

Don’t be frightened, Johnny, dear! 

Gracious ! how the jackals yell ! 

Mother, tell me what’s the man 
Doing with that pole of his ? 

Bl^s your little precious heart, 

He’s stirring up the beastesses ! 

Children ! don’t you go so near ! 

Hevings ! there’s the Afric cow:- os ; 


THE MENAGERIE. 


Ill 


"What’s the matter with the child? 

Why, the monkey’s tore his trowsers ! 
Here’s the monstrous elephant — 

I’m all a tremble at the sight ; 

See his monstrous tooth-pick, boys ! 
Wonder if he’s fastened tight? 

There’s the lion ! — see his tail ! 

How he drags it on the floor ! 

’Sakes alive ! I’m awful scared 
To hear the horrid creatures roar ! 
Here’s the monkeys in their cage, 

Wide awake you are to see ’em ; 
Funny, ain’t it ? How would you 
Like to have a tail and be ’em ? 

Johnny, darling, that’s the bear 
That tore the naughty boys to pieces ; 
Horned cattle ! — only hear 
How the dreadful camel wheezes ! 
That’s the tall giraffe, my boy, 

Who stoops to hear the morning lark ; 
’Twas him who waded Hoah’s flood, 

And scorned the refuge of the ark. 

Here’s the crane — the awkward bird ! 

Strong his neck is as a whaler's. 

And his bill is full as long 
As ever met one from the tailor’s. 
Look ! — -just see the zebra there, 
Standing safe behind the bars ; 
Goodness me ! how like a flag, 

All except the corner stars ! 

There’s the bell ! the birds and beasts 
How are going to be fed ; 

So, my little darlings, come, 

It’s time for you to be abed. 

“Mother, ’tisn’t nine o’ clock ! 

You said we needn’t go before ; 

Let us stay a little while — 

Want to see the monkeys more !” 


112 


OLD QUIZZLE. 


Cries the showman, u Turn 'em out ! 

Dim the lights ! — there, that will do ; 
Come again to-morrow, boys ; 

Bring your little sisters, too.” 

Exit mother, half distraught, 

Exit father, muttering “ bore !” 

Exit children, blubbering still, 

“Want to see the monkeys more !” 


OLD QUIZZLE. 

Old Quizzle was a man of great discerning, 

Yet punctuality was his noblest rule : 

They say he was a man, too, of great learning, 

Of course he must be, 'cause he kept a school. 

'Twas in St. Giles’s where this genius dwelt, 

But oft, alas, the stings of hunger felt ; 

For he had scholars only just two score, 

Twopence per week each paid him, and — no more ; 
Although so poor, content was in his face, 

He seemed to glory that he held such sway ; 

For should a scholar dare to disobey, 

The log was used — a token of disgrace. 

One of his boys, a sad, audacious rogue, 

Had oft the log, but still 'twas no avail, 

Nor cane nor strap o'er mischief could prevail, 

And oft he’d mimic Quizzle’s Irish brogue. 

Enraged one day, ho in the kitchen lock’d him, 

Stay there, you scoundrel, till I let you loose. 

The boy still laughed, made faces, and then mocked him 
Avaunt ! old codger, addle-pated goose. 

But left alone, and thinking of his danger, 

Perchance no tea, no supper, oh ! the thought! 

His cane, his strap, to them I am no stranger. 

Or e’en a flogging I can set at nought, 

But should he keep me lock'd up here all night, 


0L1) QUIZZLE. 


113 


With darkness, and no supper to contend, 

The rod again perchance he does intend. 

Fll talk no more, 

But try this instant with my utmost might 
To force the door : 

Then rushing forward with his clenched fists, 

But, ah ! the door his puny strength resists ; 

A bar he spies ; the door is soon knocked down, 

And liberty his youthful efforts crown. 

Then creeping gently to the school-room dear 
Where silence reigns, 

The tunes and bawling of the hoys are o’er, 

He fear disdains. 

Then walking boldly to old Quizzle’s seat, 

He spies his spectacles and case complete ; 

Ha ! thou helpmates to old Quizzle’s goggle eyes, 

Thee and thy master firmly I despise ; 

Thou shall no longer for his petty spite 
Afford thy wonted pleasure to his sight. 

’Twas thus he spoke, then dashed them on the floor 
Old Quizzle’s spectacles were now no more ; 

When thus he’d done, he hastened from the school 
Exulting calling Quizzle an old fool. 

The morn arrives, the boys are ’sembled all, 

Save him who answered not to Quizzle’s call. 

Where’s Toughstone, Quizzle cried (that was his name), 
He has not come yet, was the answer give ; 

And when he does, I’ll flog him, as I live. 

Fled from below, and then my glasses breaking, 

His breech shall answer for the undertaking ; 

He scarce had said, when in young Toughstone caiue ; 
Go seize that villain who my glasses broke, 

And get him ready to receive the rod ; 

He shall not with impunity provoke — 

I’ll make him fear me when I only nod. 

Think not I mean thy flogging to elude, 

Said Toughstone (placed in tragic attitude), 

I am thy scholar, not thy captive here, 


114 


THE INFIDEL AND QUAKER. 


My name is Toughstone, tough too was I born ; 
Perchance you wish to see me on my knees, 

I answer no !— now flog me if you please. 

Old Quizzle stood ’twixt wonder and surprise, 

Hot knowing whether to believe his eyes ; 

At length, said he, I think it is not fit 
That I should flog thee for this show of wit; 

But I forgive thee only on this score, 

That you go hence, and ne’er come near me more. 
Nor can that rod command a single tear; 

Kind words command me, but thy threats I scorn. 


THE INFIDEL AND QUAKER. 

A POPULAR. RECITATION anonymous. 

"Whoever travels in a coach, 

Where right gives license to encroach, 

To birds of varied feather, 

Will meet with them in every station. 

Without regard of creed or nation, 

Whom chance has brought together. 

Apropos — here’s a case at hand ; 

The muse has but to wave her wand, 

And friends will ne’er forsake her. 

It happened, as the story goes, 

That fate once brought in contact close 
An Infidel and Quaker. 

Well, on they chatted for awhile, 

And told the tale, and raised the smile, 

To pass the time the faster ; 

And friends till now they would have been, 

And smiled and chatted on, I ween, 

But for a sad disaster. 

The Quaker introduced discourse 
Of moral cast — and this, of course. 

The skeptic soon offended ; 

He smiled no more, but quickly went 


THE LAWYER AND THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER. 115 


To prop his cause by argument, 

Which soon the Quaker ended. 

For he, well armed in each attack, 
Parried his blows, and gave them bade 
With infinite precision ; 

And stood invulnerable still, 

Defending with the utmost skill 
His well matured decision. 

u What/’ said the infidel at length, 

“ You don’t believe that David’s strength 
Could e’er have hurl’d the stone, 

Which sank within G-oliah’s head, 

And laid the mighty giant dead, 

Unaided and alone ? ” 

“Yes,” quoth the Quaker, “I believe, 
And all the word of God receive 
As sacred and divine ; 

No case can be more clear than this, 

The giant’s head must break — if his 
Were half as soft as thine. 


THE LAWYER AND THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER. 

ANONYMOUS. 

A roguish old lawyer was planning new sin, 

As he lay on his bed in a fit of the gout ; 

The mails and the day-light were just coming in, 

The females and rush-lights were just going out. 

When a chimney-sweep’s boy, who had made a mistake, 
Came flap down the flue with a clattering rush, 

And bawl’d as he gave his black inii*zle a shake, 

“ My master’s a coming to give you a brush.” 

“ If that be the case,” said the cunning old elf, 

“ There’s no moment to lose — it is high time to flee ; 

Ere he gives me a brush I will brush off myself— 

If I wait for the devil, the devil take me ! ” 


BILL MASON’S BRIDE. 


llf> 


BILL MASON’S BRIDE. 

CHIQITITA. 

Half an hour till train time, sir, 

An’ a fearful dark night, too ; 

Take a look at the switch-lights, Tom, 

Fetch in a stick when you're through. 

“ On time ?” well, yes, I guess so — 

Left the last station all right; 

She’ll come round the curve a flyin’ — 

Bill Mason comes up to-night. 

You know Bill? No ! he’s engineer; 

Been on the road all his life : 

I’ll never forget the momin’ 

He married his chunk of a wife. 

’Twas the summer the mill hands struck — 

Jest off work, every one; 

They kicked up a row in the village, 

And killed old Donovan’s son. 

Bill hedn’t been married more’n an hour, 

TJp comes a message from Kress, 

Orderin’ Bill to go up there 
And bring down the night express. 

He left his gal in a hurry 
And went up on number one, 

Thinkin’ of nothin’ but Mary 
And the train he had to run. 

.And Mary sat by the window 
To wait for the night express ; 

An’, sir, if she hadn’t ha’ done so, 

She’d been a widow, I guess. 

For it must ha’ been nigh midnight 
When them mill hands left the Ridge ; 

They come down — the drunken devils ! — 

Tore up a rail from the bridge. 

But Mary heard ’em a workin’, 

And guessed there was somethin’ wrong — 


JUDGING BY 


11 ? 


/%4 ~ 


And in less than fifteen minutes 
Bill’s train it would be along ! 

She couldn’t ha’ come here to tell us, 

A mile — it wouldn’t ha’ done ; 

So she jest grabbed up a lantern 
And made for the bridge alone. 

Then down came the night express, sir, 
And Bill was makin’ her climb ! 

But Mary held the lantern, 

A swingin’ it all the time. 

'Well, by Jove ! Bill saw the signal, 
And he stopped the night express, 

And he found his Mary cryin’ 

On the track, in her weddin’ dress; 

Cryin’ %n’ laughin’ for joy, sir, 

An’ holdin’ on to the light — 

Hallo ! here’s the train ! good by, sir, 
Bill Mason’s on time to-night ! 


JUDGING BY APPEARANCES. 

A RECITATION. A *o 

Some years ago, ere civil war’s alarms 
Disturbed the quiet of our 'Western farms, 

A backwoodsman, unused to towns and cities, 
Their fashions, usages, quirks, and oddities, 
Resolved to travel. But we cannot furnish 
Particulars of the object of his journeys, 

Or when, or how, or where — that’s not our purpose, 
But just one incident to paint in picture verbose. 

He came at length to see those “ floating palaces,” 
The Don of "Waters tips like mighty chalices 
On liquid lips ; and sips, devours if he wishes, 

Not waiting to be dry, the contents and the dishes. 
Our friend had seen some craft, yet most a dreamer, 
No marvel like a Mississippi steamer. 


118 


THE DEATH'S HEAD. 


He stepped aboard, and setting down his “plunder/' 
Began to explore the splendid floating wonder. 

“ My eyes !” said he “ what lots of gold and silver ! 

The owners of this boat run up a mighty bill for 
This furniture, and all this other fixin’ ; 

And how the painters, too, have put the licks in ! 

I wonder what that deuced door there leads to ?” 

And stepping towards it, stopped, as he must needs do, 
Quite short, confronted by another Hoosier, 

Who stared, and seemed to say, “Well, who are you, sir?” 
Our hero moved to let the stranger pass, 

Hor once suspected ’twas a fall-length glass! 

Making the circuit of the grand saloon, 

Hot strange to tell, the selfsame party soon 

Again before him stood. “ Hello ! you stranger ! at about 

What time is this 'ere boat a goin’ out # 

Say, stranger! can’t ye tell me?” Ho response. 

The traveler turned ; his hat upon his soonce 
Indignantly he crushed, berating thus : 

“Well, I’m not quarr’lsome, or we’d have a muss ! 

Feels grand ! Won’t speak ! He’s mighty proud; but now 
A judgin’ from the looks he ain’t much, anyhow ! 

’Tis thus in other judgments that we make — 

Ourselves are seen in just the views we take. 

One man declares the world is all awry — 

His own discordant nature we descry ; 

Another finds a heaven here below — 

’Tis the reflection of his soul, we know. 


THE DEATH’S HEAD; 

OB, HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. w. it. frkbmam. 

“ Get money (honestly if t can be done,) 

But money thee must get thus to his son 
A Quaker said, and by this maxim now 
It seems that all abide; from high to low : 


THE DEATH’S HEAD. 


119 


No doubt, therefore, the hero of our tale 
(As maxims with us all at times prevail) 

Resolved with him the adage should not fail. 

In famed St. Giles’s he had long been known, 

A baker — both of credit and renown ; 

And, as churchwarden of the parish, he 
Supplied the poor in that capacity. 

A plodding man was he, who pride disdained, 

And thought a penny saved a penny gained ; 

Early to bed — he rose as did the sun, 

And always had an eye to number one. 

Having for years pursued this saving plan, 

His neighbors titled him a moneyed man. 

It chanced that various alterations made 
In the church-yard, disturbed the peaceful dead, 

And many of the tombs which friendship reared, 

As a last pledge of love, had disappeared ; 

Nay, e’en those friends themselves had reach’d that 
bourne 

From whence (’tis said) no travelers return ; 

No relative remained of all their race, 

To insist the tombs should take their former place ; 
Epitaphs sculptur’d to their mem’ry, 

Now scatter’d here and there neglected lie. 

Now at this time our said churchwarden, he 
(■Whom we shall hence call Paste, for brevity), 

Found that his oven sadly was decayed 
And a new bottom must be quickly laid ; 

But on his mind the expense so heavy lay, 

He could not sleep by night, or rest by day, 

'With so much money all at once to part ; 

“Why really ’tis enough to break one’s heart; 

Yet still it must be done, or else my bread 
Will be so bad I shall lose half my trade.” 

Thus ponder’d Paste, as on the Sunday morn 
He bent his way to church with look forlorn ; 

Deep sunk in thought, what plau he should pursue, 
These nice flat polished stones appeared in view ; 

A sudden thought like light’ning cross’d his brain, 


120 


THE DEATH'S HEAD. 


Could he these nice flat polish’d stones obtain, 

Oh ! what a bottom for his oven, eh ! 

And not one farthing of expense to pay. 

He took his seat, but not a thought he owns, 

Except relating to the nice flat polished stones ; 

In church or out, no other thoughts can move him, 
Except the nice new bottom for his oven. 

In short, the tablets quickly were removed, 

And of the oven the fiery ordeal proved, 

"Whilst Mr. Paste thought they were bedded down, 
Sacred from every eye except his own. 

Fate, from time immemorial, hath decreed 
That villainy in no shape shall succeed ; 

Thus Mr. Paste, entirely through neglect, 

And in a way he had no causeV expect, 

To his dismay full quickly was betray’d, 

And the informer was his own baked bread. 

These nice flat stones, though polish’d by the wear 
Of many years, still some impressions bear, 

■Which cherish’d traces were imprest, ’tis said, 

Upon the bottom crust of all his bread. 

Of the first batch, a loaf, so it appears, 

"Went to a dashing beau of four score years 
Who stared with wonder as he plainly read 
This moral couplet on the baker’s bread : 

“Mortal, I once was blithe and gay as thee, 

But such as I am now thou soon shalt be.” 

“What,” cried the beau, “has Paste, the baker, dared 
Compare me to a paltry loaf of bread — 

Take me for so much dough, and dare to make ’t 
Appear that I, like "bread, shall soon be baked ; 

I’ll crimp the scoundrel — villain ! how durst he 
Insinuate that I’m becoming crusty. 

Another loaf of this same batch became 
The property of a young buck of fame, 

Who scarcely took it up within his hands, 

When, in bold letters, printed on it stands 

The word “ Resurgam,” which all know, ’tis plain, 

If anglicized, means “ I shall rise again.” 


BETSY AND I AKE OUT. 


121 


“ God zounds !” exclaimed the buck, “ after that threat 
I don’t feel much inclined such bread to eat ; 

There’s no temptation for that food will own, 

’Twill not sit quietly when once ’tis down.” 

He to his next-door neighbor quickly hied, 

Thinking that in his skill he might confide, 

He being an apothecary tried, 

Who, laughing at the joke, replied, “ that he 
Esteem’d it but the baker’s waggery, 

Who, to express his wish, used this device, 

That flour and bread might quickly rise in price.” 

To an old maid the third loaf found its way, 

Who thought of naught but ghosts and witchery ; 

Did but a cricket chirp beneath the hearth, 

'Twas a sure sign of some relation’s death ; 

Oh, how she stared when this same loaf she view’d, 
How curdled in her veins each drop of blood, 

As on the crust, imprinted from the stones, 

Appear’d a grim Death’s head and two cross’d bones. 
The bread dropped from her hand, she scream’d aloud, 
And horror-struck, she like a statue stood. 

These tales through all the parish quickly ran ; 

To unravel them a search was quick began, 

Which ended in the downfall and disgrace 
Of Mr. Paste, who quickly left the place. 

A moral hence may easily be drawn : 

Let no man covet what is not his own ; 

The phrase, though homely, true’s allowed to be, 

That “ honesty is the best policy.” 


BETSY AND I ARE OUT. 

• WILL M. CARLKTON. 

Draw up the papers, lawyer, and make ’em good and stout, 

For things at home are cross- ways, and Betsy aud I are out ; 
We who have worked together so long as man and wife 
Must pull in single harness the rest of our nat’ral life. 


J22 


BETSY AND I AKE OUT. 


11 What is the matter/’ says you ? I swan ! it’s hard to tell ! 

Most of the years behind us we’ve passed by very well ; 

I have no other woman — she has no other man ; 

Only we’ve lived together as long as ever we can. 

So I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, 

And we’ve agreed together that we can never agree ; 

Not that we’ve catched each other in any terrible crime; 

We’ve been a gatherin ’this for years, a little at a time. 

There was a stock of temper we both had, for a start ; 

Although we ne’er suspected ’twould take us two apart ; 

I had my various failings, bred in the flesh and bone, 

And Betsy, like all good women, had a temper of her own. 

The first thing I remember whereon we disagreed, 

Was somethin’ concerning heaven — a difference in our ere ; 

We arg’ed the thing at breakfast — we ar’ged the thing at tea — 
And the more we arg’ed the question, the more we couldn’t 
agree. 

And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow ; 

She had kicked the bucket, for certain — the question was only — 
How? 

I held my opinion, and Betsy another had ; 

And when we were done a talkin’, we both of us was mad. 

And the next that I remember, it started in a joke ; 

But for a full week it lasted, and neither of us spoke. 

And the next was when I fretted because she broke a bowl ; 

And she said I was mean and stingy, and hadn’t any soul. 

And so the thing kept workin’, and all the self-same way ; 
Always somethin’ to ar’ge and somethin’ sharp to say, 

And down on us came the neighbors, a couple o’ dozen strong. 
And lent their kindest sarvice to help the thing along. 

And there have been days together — and many a weary week — 
When both of us were cross and spunky, and both too proud to 
speak ; 

And I have been thinkin’ and thinkin’, the whole of the summer 
and fall, 

If I can’t live kind with a woman, why, then I won’t at all. 


BETSY AND I ABE OUT. 


123 


And so I've talked with. Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, 
And we have agreed together that we can never agree ; 

And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine shall be mine ; 
And I’ll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign. 

"White on the paper, lawyer — the very first paragraph — 

Of all the farm and live stock, she shall have her half; 

For she has helped to earn it through many a weary daj r , 

And it’s nothin’ more than justice that Betsy has her pay. 

Give her the house and homestead ; a man can thrive and roam, 
But women are wretched critters unless they have a home. 

And I have always determined, and never failed to say, 

That Betsy never should want a home if I was taken away. 

There’s a little hard money besides, that’s drawin’ tol’rable pay, 
A couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day, 

Safe in the hands of good men, and easy to get at ; 

Put in another clause there, and give her all of that. 

I see that you are smiling, sir, at my givin’ her so much ; 

Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such; 

True and fair I married her, when she was blithe and young, 

And Betsy was always good to me, exceptin’ with her tongue. 

"When I was young as you, sir, and not so smart, perhaps, 

For me she mittened a lawyer, and several other chaps ; 

And all of ’em was flustered, and fairly taken down, 

And for a time I was counted the luckiest man in town. 

Once, when I had a fever — I won’t forget it soon — 

I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon— 

Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight; 

She nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and night. 

And if ever a house was tidy, and ever a kitchen clean, 

Her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen, 

And I don’t complain of Betsy or any of her acts, 

Exceptin’ when we’ve quarreled, and told each other facts. 

So draw up the paper, lawyer ; and I’ll go home to-night, 

And read the agreement to her and see if it’s all right ; 

And then in the mornin’ I’ll sell to a tradin’ man I know — 

And kiss the child that was left to us, and out in the world 
I’ll go. 


124 


BETSY DESTKOYS THE PAPEK. 


And one thing put in the paper, that first to me didn’t occur ; 
That when I am dead at last she will bring me back to her, 
And lay me under the maple we planted years ago, 

'When she and I was happy, before we quarreled so. 

And when she dies, I wish that she would be laid by me ; 

And lyin’ together in silence, perhaps we’ll then agree ; 

And if ever we meet in heaven, I wouldn’t think it queer 
If we loved each other the better because we’ve quarreled here. 


BETSY DESTROYS THE PAPER. 

D. K. LOCKK. 

I’ve brought back the paper, lawyer, and fetched the parson 
here, 

To see that things are regular, and settled up fair and clear ; 

For I’ve been talking with Caleb, and Caleb has with me, 

An d the ’mount of it is we’re minded to try once more to agree. 

So I came here on the business — only a word to say 
(Caleb is staking pea- vines, and couldn’t come to-dav,) 

Just to tell you and parson how that we’ve changed our mind ; 

So I’ll tear up the paper, lawyer, you see it wasn’t signed. 

And now if parson is ready, I’ll walk with him toward home ; 

I want to thank him for something, ’twas kind of him to come ; 
He’s showed a Christian spirit, stood by us firm and true ; 

We mightn’t have changed our mind, squire, if he’d been a law- 
yer too. 

There ! — how good the sun feels, and the grass, and blowin’ 
trees, 

Something about them lawyers makes me feel fit to freeze ; 

I wasn’t bound to state particular to that man, 

But it’s right you should know, parson, about our change of 
plan. 

■We’d been some days a waverin’ a little, Caleb and me, 

Aud wished the hateful paper at the bottom of the sea ; 

But I guess ’twas the prayer last evening, and the few words you 
said, 

That thawed the ice between us, and brought things to a head. 


BETSY DESTROYS THE PAPER. 


125 


You see, when we came to division, there were things that 
wouldn’t divide ; 

There was our twelve-year- old baby, she couldn’t be satisfied 
To go with one or the other, but just kept whimperin’ low, 

“ I’ll stay with papa and mamma, and where they go I’ll go.” 

Then there was grandsire’s Bible — he died on our wedding day ; 
We couldn’t halve the old Bible, and should it go or stay? 

The sheets that was Caleb’s mother’s, her sampler on the wall, 
With the sweet old names worked in — Tryphena, and Eunice, 
and Paul. 

It began to be hard then, parson, but it grew harder still, 

Talkin’ of Caleb established down at McHenrysville ; 

Three dollars a week ’twould cost him ; no mendin’ nor sort of 
care, 

And board at the Widow Meacham’s — a woman that wears false 
hair. 

Still we went on a talkin’ ; I agreed to knit some soflks, 

And make a dozen striped shirts, and a pair of wa’mus frocks ; 
And he was to cut a doorway from the kitchen to the shed : 

“ Save you climbing steps much, in frosty weather,” he said. 

He brought me the pen at last ; I felt a sinkin’, and he 
Looked as he did with the agur, in the spring of sixty-three. 
’Twas then you dropped in, parson, ’twasn’t much that was 
said, 

“Little children, love one another,” but the thing was killed 
stone dead. 

I should like to make confession ; not that I’m going to say 
The fault was all on my side, that never was my way, 

But it may be true that women — though how ’tis I can’t see — 
Are a trifle more aggravatin’ than men know how to be. 

Then, parson, the neighbors’ meddlin’ — it wasn’t pourin’ oil ; 

And the church a laborin’ with us, ’twas worse than wasted toil ; 
And I’ve thought, and so has Caleb, though maybe we aro 
wrong, 

If they’d kept to their own business, we should have got along. 

There was Deacon Amos Purdy, a good man as we know, 

But hadn’t a gift of laborin’ except with the scythe and hoe ; 


126 


BETSY 1XESTKOYS THE PAPER. 


Then a load came over in peach time from the Wilbur neighbor- 
hood, 

“ Season of prayer,” they called it; didn't do an atom of good. 

I’ll tell you about the heifer — one of the kindest and best — 

That brother Ephraim gave me, the fall he moved out West; 

I’m free to own it riled me that Caleb should think and say 
She died of convulsions — a cow that milked four gallons a day. 

But I needn’t have spoke of turnips, needn’t have been so cross. 
And said hard things, and hinted as if ’twas all my loss ; 

And I’ll take it all back, parson ; that fire shan’t ever break out, 
Though the cow was choked with a turnip, I never had a doubt. 

Then there are p’ints of doctrine, and views of a future state, 

I’m willing to stop discussin’ ; we can both afford to wait ; 
’Twon’t bring the millennium sooner, disputin’ about when it’s 
due, 

Although I fcfel an assurance that mine’s the Scriptural view. 

But the blessedest truths of the Bible, I’ve learned to think don’t 
lie 

In the texts we hunt with a candle to prove our doctrines by, 

But them that come to us in sorrow, and when we’re on our 
knees ; 

So if Caleb won’t argue on free-will, I’ll leave alone the decrees. 

One notion of Caleb’s, parson, seems rather misty and dim ; 

I wish, if it comes convenient, you’d change a word with him : 

It don’t quite stand to reason, and for gospel it isn’t clear, 

That folks love better in heaven for having quarreled here. 

I’ve no such an expectation ; why, parson, if that is so, 

You needn’t have worked so faithful to reconcile folks below; 

I hold another opinion, and hold it straight and square, 

If we can’t be peaceable here, we won’t be peaceable there. 

But there’s the request he made ; you know it, parson, about 
Bein’ laid under the maples that his own hand set out, 

And me to be laid beside him when my time comes to go ; 

As if— as if— don’t mind me ; but ’twas that unstrung me so. 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 


127 


And now that some scales, as we think, have fallen from our 

eyes, 

And things brought so to a crisis have made us both more wise, 
'Why, Caleb says, and so I say, till the Lord parts him and me, 
■\Ve’ll love each- other better, and try our best to agree. 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 

SAM. LOTKB. 

Father Blake was more familiarly known by the name of 
Father Phil. By either title, or in whatever capacity, the 
worthy father had great influence over his parish, and 
there was a free-and-easy way with him, even in doing the 
most solemn duties, which agreed wonderfully with the 
devil-may-care spirit of Paddy. Stiff and starched formal- 
ity in any way is repugnant to the very nature of Irish- 
men. There are forms, it is true, and many, in the Romish 
church, but they are not cold forms, but attractive rather, 
to a sensitive people ; besides, I believe those very forms, 
when observed the least formally, are the most influential 
on the Irish. 

With all his intrinsic worth, Father Phil was, at the 
same time, a strange man in exterior manners ; for, with 
an abundance of real piety, he had an abruptness of deliv- 
ery, and a strange way of mixing up an occasional remark 
to his congregation in the midst of the celebration of the 
mass, which might well startle a stranger ; but this very 
want of formality made him beloved by the people, and 
they would do ten times as much for Father Phil as for the 
severe Father Dominick. 

On the Sunday in question Father Phil intended deliv- 
ering an address to his flock from the altar, urging them 
to the necessity of bestirring themselves in the repairs of 
the chapel, which was in a very dilapidated condition, and 
at one end let in the rain through its worn-out thatch. A 


123 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 


subscription was necessary ; and to raise this among a 
very impoverished people was no easy matter. The 
weather happened to be unfavorable, which was most fa- 
vorable to Father Phil’s purpose, for the rain dropped its 
arguments through the roof upon the kneeling people be- 
low, in the most convincing manner ; and as they endeav- 
ored to get out of the wet, they pressed round the altar as 
much as they could, for which they were reproved very 
smartly by his reverence in the very midst of the mass. 
These interruptions occurred sometimes in the most seri- 
ous places, producing a ludicrous effect, of which the wor- 
thy Father was quite unconscious, in his great anxiety to 
make the people repair the chapel. 

A big woman was elbowing her way towards the rails 
of the altar, and Father Phil, casting a side-long glance 
at her, sent her to the right-about, while he interrupted 
his appeal to Heaven to address her thus : 

11 Agnus Dei — You’d betther jump over the rails of 
the althar, I think. Gfo along out o’ that, there’s plenty o’ 
room iu the chapel below there — ” 

Then he would turn to the altar, and proceed with the 
service, till, turning again to the congregation, he per- 
ceived some fresh offender. 

“ Orate , fratres /—Will you mind what I say to you, 
and go along out of that, there’s room below there. Thrue 
for you, Mrs. Finn — it’s a shame for him to bo tramplin’ 
on you. Go along, Darby Casy, down there, and kneel in 
the rain — it’s a pity you haven’t a decent woman’s cloak 
under you indeed ! — Orate, fratres ! ” 

Then would the service proceed again, till the shuffling 
of feet edging out of the rain would disturb him, and, 
casting a backward glance, he would say— 

“ 1 hear you there — can’t you be quiet, and not be dis- 
turbin’ my mass, you haythens ? ” 

Again he proceeded, till the crying of a child interrupt- 
ed him. He looked around quickly— 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 


J29 


“You’d betther kill the child, I think, thramplin’ on 
him, Lavery. Go out o’ that — your conduct is scandalous 
— Dominus vobiscum ! 

Again he turned to pray, and after some time he made 
an interval in the service to address his congregation on 
the subject of the repairs, and produced a paper containing 
the names of subscribers to that pious work who had al- 
ready contributed, by way of example to those who had 
not. , 

“ Here it is,” said Father Phil— “ here it is, and no de- 
nying it — down in black and white ; but if they who give 
are down in black, how much blacker are those who have 
not given at all ! But I hope they will be ashamed of 
themselves when I howld up those to honor who have con- 
tributed to the uphowlding of the house of God. And isn’t 
it ashamed o’ yourselves you ought to be, to lave His house 
in such a condition f and doesn’t it rain a’most every Sun- 
day, as if He wished to remind you of your duty ? — aren’t 
you wet to the skin a’most every Sunday ? Oh, God is 
good to you ! to put you in mind of your duty, giving you 
such bitther cowlds that you are coughing and sneezin’ 
every Sunday to that degree that you can’t hear the bles- 
sed mass for a comfort and a benefit to you ; and so you’ll 
go on sneezin’ until you put a good thatch on the place, 
and prevent the appearance of the evidence from Heaven 
against you every Sunday, which is condemning you be- 
fore your faces, and behind your backs too, for don’t I see 
this minnit a strame o’ wather that might turn a mill run- 
ning down Micky Macavoy’s back, between the collar of his 
coat and his shirt ? ” 

Here a laugh ensued at the expense of Micky Macka- 
voy, who certainly ivas under a very heavy drip from the 
imperfect roof. 

“ And is it laughing you are, you haythens ? ” said Fa- 
ther Phil, reproving the merriment which he himself had 
purposely created, that he might reprove it. u Laughing is 


180 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 


it you are, at your backslidings and insensibility to the 
honor of God— laughing because when you come here to 
be saved, you are lost entirely with the wet ; and how, I 
ask you, are my words of comfort to enter your hearts 
when the rain is pouring down your backs at the same 
time f Sure 1 have no chance of turning your hearts while 
you are under rain that might turn a mill— but once put a 
good roof on the house, and I will inundate you with piety ! 
Maybe it’s Father Dominick you would like to have com- 
ing among you, who would grind your hearts to powdher 
with his heavy words.” (Here a low murmur of dissent 
ran through the throng.) “Ha! ha! so you wouldn’t like 
it, I see — very well, very well, take care, then, for if I find 
you insensible to my moderate reproofs, you hard-hearted 
haythens, you malefacthors and cruel persecuthors, that 
won’t put your hands in your pockets because your mild 
and quiet poor fool of a pasthor has no tongue in his head ! 
I say, your mild, quiet, poor fool of a pasthor, (for I know 
my own faults partly, God forgive me!) and I can’t spake 
to you as you deserve, you hard-living vagabonds, that are 
as insensible to your duties as you are to the weather. I 
wish it was sugar or salt that you were made of, and then 
the rain might melt you if I couldn’t ; but no, them naked 
rafthers grins in your face to no purpose — you ckate the 
house of God — but take care, maybe you won’t chate the 
Divil so aisy.” (Here there was a sensation.) “Ha! ha! 
that makes you open your ears, does it ? More shame for 
you ; you ought to despise that dirty enemy of man, and 
depend on something better — but I see I must call you to a 
sense of your situation with the bottomless pit undher you, 
and no roof over you. Oh dear ! dear ! dear ! I’m ashamed 
of you — throth, if I had time and sthraw enough, I’d rather 
thatch the place myself than lose my time talking to you ; 
sure the place is more like a stable than a chapel. Oh, 
think of that !— the house of God to be like a stable — for 


FATHER BLAKE'S COLLECTION. 


iai 


though our Redeemer was born in a stable, that is no rea- 
son why you are to keep his house always like one. 

“And now I will read you the list of subscribers, and it 
will make you ashamed when you hear the names of sev- 
eral good and worthy Protestants in the parish, and out of 
it, too, who have given more than the Catholics.” 

He then proceeded to read the following list, which he 
interlarded copiously with observations of his own ; mak- 
ing viva voce marginal notes as it were upon the subscri- 
bers, which were not unfrequently answered by the persons 
so noticed, from the body of the chapel, and laughter was 
often the consequence of these rejoinders, which Father 
Phil never permitted to pass without a retort. Nor must 
all this be considered in the least irreverent. A certain 
period is allowed between two particular portions of the 
mass, when the priest may address his congregation on 
any public matter, an approaching pattern, or fair, or the 
like, in which exhortations to propriety of conduct, or war- 
nings against faction, fights, &c., are his themes. Then 
they only listen in reverence. But when a subscription 
for such an object as that already mentioned is under dis- 
cussion, the flock consider themselves entitled to “ put in 
a word ” in case of necessity. This preliminary hint is giv- 
en to the reader, that he may better enter into the spirit 
of Father Phil’s 


Subscription List 

For the Repairs and Enlargement of Bally sloughgutthery 
Chapel. 

Philip Blake, P. P. 

Micky Hickey, £0 7 s. 0 d. “He might as well have made 
it ten shillings ; but half a loaf is better than no bread.” 

“Plaze your reverence,” says Mick, from the body of 
the chapel, “ sure seven and sixpence is more than the half 
of ten shillings.” (A laugh.) 


132 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 


“ Ob, how witty you are ! Faith, if you knew your 
prayers as well as your arithmetic, it would be betther for 
you, Micky.” 

Here the Father turned the laugh against Mick. 

Billy Riley, £0 35. 4 d. “ Of course he means to sub- 
scribe again.” 

John Dwyer, £0 155. 0 d. “That’s something like ! I’ll 
be bound he’s only keeping back the odd five shillings for a 
brush full o’ paint for the althar; it’s as black as a crow, 
instead o’ being as a dove.” 

He then hurried over rapidly some small subscribers as 
follows : 

Peter Hefferman, £0 15. 8 d. 

James Murphy, £0 2s. 6cl. 

Mat Donovan, £0 15. 3 d. 

Luke Dannely, £0 35. 0 d. 

Jack Quigley, £0 2s. Id. 

Pat Finnegan, £0 25. 2d. 

Edward O’Connor, Esq., £2 Os. 0 d . “ There’s for 
you ! Edward O’Connor, Esq . — a Protestant in the parish 
— two pounds.” 

“ Long life to him,” cried a voice in the chapel. 

“ Amen !’’ said Father Phil; “I’m not ashamed to be 
clerk to so good a prayer.” 

Nicholas Fagan, £0 2s. 6d. 

Young Nicholas Fagan, £0 5s. 0 d. “Young Nick is 
betther than owld Nick, you see.” 

Tim Doyle, £0 7s. 6d. 

Owny Doyle, £ 1 05. Od. “Well done, Owny na Coppal 
—you deserve to prosper, for you make good use of your 
thrivings.” 

Simon Leary, £0 25. 6d. ; Bridget Murphy, £0 105. Od. 
“ You ought to be ashamed 0 ’ yourself, Simon ; a lone wid- 
ow woman gives more than you.” 

Simon answered, “ I have a large family, sir, and she 
has no childers.” 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 13# 

“ That’s not her fault,” said the priest — “and maybe 
she’ll mend o’ that yet.” This excited much merriment, 
for the widow was buxom, and had recently buried an old 
husband, and by all accounts was cocking her cap at a 
handsome young fellow in the parish. 

Jude Moy lan, £0 5s. Od. “Very good, Judy; the wo- 
men are behaving like gentlemen ; they’ll have their re- 
ward in the next world.” 

Pat Finnerty, £0 8s. 4 d. “I’m not sure if it is 8s. 4 d. 
or 3s. 4 d.j for the figure is blotted, but I believe it is 8s. 4 d.” 

“It was three and fourpince I gave your reverence,” 
said Pat from the crowd. 

“ Well, Pat, as I said eight and fourpence, you must 
not let me go back o’ my word, so bring me five shillings 
next week.” 

“ Sure, you wouldn’t have me pay for a blot, sir?” 

“Yis, I would — that’s the rule of backmannon, you 
know, Pat. When I hit the mark you pay for it.” 

Here his reverence turned round, as if looking for some 
one, and called out, “Rafferty! Rafferty! Rafferty! where 
are you, Rafferty f” 

An old gray-headed man appeared, bearing a large 
plate, and Father Phil continued — 

“There now, be active — I’m sending him among you, 
good people, and such as cannot give as much as you would 
like to be read before your neighbors, give w r hat little you 
can towards the repairs, and I will continue to read out 
the names by way of encouragement to you, and the next 
name I see is that of Squire Egan. Long life to him !” 

Squire Egan, £5 Os. 0 cl “ Squire Egan — five pounds 
— listen to that — a Protestant in the parish — five pounds ! 
Faith, the Protestants will make you ashamed of your- 
selves if you don’t take care.” 

Mrs. Flanagan, £2 Os. 0 d. “Not her own parish either. 
A fine lady ” 

James Milligan, of Roundtown, £1 Os. 0 d. 


“ And here 


134 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 


I must remark that .the people of Roundtown haven’t been 
backward in coming forward on this occasion. I have a 
list from Roundtown — I will read it separate.” He then 
proceeded at a great pace, jumbling the town and the 
pounds and the people in a most extraordinary manner: 
“ James Milligan of Roundtown, one pound; Darby Daly of 
Roundtown, one pound; Sam Finnegan of Roundtown, one 
pound; James Casey of Roundpound, one town; Kit Dwyer 
of Townpound, one round — pound, I mane ; Pat Round- 
pound — Pounden, 1 mane — Pat Pounden a pound of Pound- 
town also— there’s an example for you ! 

But what are you about, Rafferty ? I don’t like the 
sound of that plate of yours — you are not a good gleaner — 
go up first into the gallery there, where I see so many 
good looking bonnets — I suppose they will give something 
to keep their bonnets out of the rain, for the wet will be 
into the gallery next Sunday if they don’t. I think that is 
Kitty Crow I see, getting her bit of silver ready ; them 
ribbons of yours cost a thrifle, Kitty. Well, good Chris- 
tians, here is more of the subscription for you. 

Matthew Lavery, £0 2s. 6d. “ He doesn’t belong to 

Roundtown— Roundtown will be renowned in future ages 
for the support of the church. Mark my words ! Round- 
town will prosper from this day out — Roundtown will be a 
rising place.” 

Mark Hennessv, £0 2s. 6d . ; Luke Clancy, £0 2s. 6d . ; 
John Doolin, £0 2s. 6d. “ One would think they had all 

agreed only to give two and sixpence apiece. And they 
comfortable men, too ! And look at their names — Matthew, 
Mark, Luke, and John— the names of the blessed Evangel- 
ists, and only ten shillings among them ! Oh, they arc 
apostles not worthy the name — we’ll call them the poor 
apostles from this out !” (Here a low laugh ran through 
the chapel.) “ Do you hear that, Matthew, Mark, Luke, 
and John? Faith ! I can tell you that name will stick to 
you.” (Here the laugh was louder.) 


FATHER BLAKE’S COLLECTION. 


135 

A voice, when the laugh subsided, exclaimed, “I’ll 
make it ten shillin’s, your reverence.” 

“ Who’s that ?” said Father Phil. 

“Hennessy, your reverence.” 

“Very well, Mark. I suppose Matthew, Luke, and 
John, will follow your example f” 

“We will, your reverence.” 

“ Ha ! I thought you made a mistake ; we’ll call you 
now the faithful apostles — and I think the change in your 
name is better than seven and sixpence apiece to you.” 

“ I see you in the gallery there, Rafferty. What do you 
pass that well-dressed woman for l ? thry back — Ha ! see 
that, she had her money ready if you only asked for it — 
don’t go by that other woman there — Oh ho ! So you 
won’t give anything, ma’am ? you ought to be ashamed 
of yourself. There is a woman with an elegant sthraw 
bonnet, and she won’t give a farthing. Well now — afther 
that, remember — I give it from the althar, that from this 
day out sthraw bonnets pay fi’penny pieces.” 

Thomas Durfy, Esq., £1 05 0c7. “It’s not his parish, 
and he’s a brave gentleman.” 

Miss Fanny Dawson, £1 Os. 0 d. “ A Protestant, out of 
the parish, and a sweet young lady, God bless her! Oh 
faith, the Protestants i3 shaming you !” 

Dennis Fannin, £0 7s. 6d. “Very good indeed for a 
working mason.” 

Jemmy Riley, £0 5s. 0 d. “Not bad for a hedge car- 
penther.” 

“ I gave you ten, plaze your reverence,” shouted Jem- 
my ; “ and by the same token you may remember it was 
on the Nativity of the blessed Vargin, sir, I gave you the 
second five shillin’s.” 

“So you did, Jemmy,” cried father Phil; “I put a 
little cross before it, to remind me of it; but I was in a hur- 
ry to make a sijck call when you gave it to me, and I forgot 
it afther: and indeed myself doesn’t know what I did with 
that same five shillings.” 


FATHER BLAKE'S COLLECTION. 


l3b‘ 


Here a pallid woman, who was kneeling near the rails 
of the altar, uttered an impassioned blessing, and exclaimed, 
“ Oh, that was the very five shillings, Fm sure, you gave 
to me that very day, to buy some little comforts for my 
poor husband, who was dying in the fever !” and the poor 
woman burst into loud sobs as she spoke. 

A deep thrill of emotion ran through the flock as this ac- 
cidental proof of their poor pastor’s beneficence burst upon 
them ; and as an affectionate murmur began to rise above 
the silence which that emotion produced, the burly Father 
Philip blushed like a girl at this publication of his charity, 
and even at the foot of that altar where he stood, felt 
something like shame in being discovered in the commis- 
sion of that virtue so highly commended by the Providence 
to whose worship that altar was raised. He uttered a 
hasty “ YvTiislit, whisht!” and waved with his outstretched 
hands his flock into silence. 

In an instant one of those sudden changes so common 
to an Irish assembly, and scarcely credible to a stranger, 
took place. The multitude was hushed, the grotesque of 
the subscription list had passed away and was forgotten, 
and that same man and that same multitude stood in al- 
tered relations — they were again a reverent flock, and he 
once more a solemn pastor ; the natural play of his nation’s 
mirthful sarcasm was absorbed in a moment in the sacred- 
fiess of his office ; and, with a solemnity befitting the high- 
est occasion, he placed his hands together before his breast, 
and, raising his eyes to heaven, he poured forth his sweet 
voice, with a tone of the deepest devotion, in that reveren- 
tial call for prayer, “ Orate , fratres ! ” 

The sound of a multitude gently kneeling down followed, 
like the soft breaking of a quiet sea on a sandy beach ; 
and when Father Philip turned to the altar to pray, his 
pent-up feelings found vent in tears, and while he prayed 
he wept. 

I believe such scenes as this are of not unfrequent oc- 


BLANK VERSE IN RHYME. 


137 

currence in Ireland — that country so long suffering, so 
much maligned, and so little understood. 

O rulers of Ireland ! why have you not sooner learned 
to lead that people by love, whom all your severity has 
been unable to drive ? 


BLANK VERSE IN RHYME. 

T. HO 

Even is come, and from the dark park, hark, 

The signal of the setting sun — one gun ! 

And six is sounding from the chime, prime time 
To go and see the Drury Lane Dane stain — 

Or hear Othello’s jealous douht spout out — 

Or Macheth raving at that shade-made blade, 
Denying to his frantic clutch much touch — 

Or else to see Ducrow with wide stride ride 
Four horses as no other man can span ; 

Or in the small Olympic pit, sit, split 
Laughing at Liston, while yon quiz his phiz. 

Anon night comes, and with her wings brings things 
Such as, with his poetic tongue, Young sung; 

The gas up-blazes with its bright white light, 

And paralyctic watchmen prowl, howl, growl, 

About the streets, and take up Pall-Mall Sal, 

Who, hasting to her nightly jobs, robs fobs. 

Now thieves to enter for your cash, smash, crash, 
Past drowsy Charley, in a deep sleep, creep ; 

But frightened by policemen B 3, flee, 

And while they’re going whisper low, ‘‘No go!” 

Now puss, while folks are in their beds, treads leads, 
And sleepers waking grumble “drat that cat!” 

Who in the gutter catter- wauls, squalls, mauls 
Some feline foe, who screams in shrill ill will. 

Now Bulls of Bashan, of a prize size, rise 
In childish dreams, and with. a roar gore poor 
Georgey, or Charles, or Billy, willy nilly ; 

But nursemaid in a nightmare rest, chest press’d, 


ROGUERY TAUGHT BY CONFESSION. 


Dreameth of one of her old flames, James Games, 

And that she hears — what faith is man’s ! — Ann’s Cann’s 
And his, from Reverend Mr. Rice, twice, thrice ; 

While ribbons flourish and a stout shout out, 

That upward goes, shows Rose knows those bows’ woes ! 


ROGUERY TAUGHT BY CONFESSION. 

A HUMOBOUS RECITATION . i-etkr rmtii. 

A pious ostler who did much repent 
Of all his sins, and they were not a few, 

Resolv’d one day to give his conscience vent, 

And get his wicked soul whitewashed, anew. 

So rose betimes next morn, and quickly knelt 
Before a goodly priest with shaven crown ; 

One who, although he in a village dwelt, 

Knew all the cheating tricks of London town. 

To him a free confession soon he made, 

And vow’d full oft he ne’er would sin again; 

Hoping the holy Sire would lend his aid, 

From his polluted soul to wipe the stain. 

“ Son,” cried the monk — u although thy crimes are great, 
And ’nough to damn thy wretched, sinful soul, 

Too much I fear there’s one you do not state, 

And I, ere you’re absolv’d, must hear the whole. 

Say, by our lady, did you ne’er beneath 
The manger, keep some tallow in a horn ? 

And did you never grease a horse’s teeth, 

To hinder him from eating any corn ? ” 

“ No, father, no,” he cried — “ I’m not involved 
In such a crime ; indeed, I’ve named the whole.” 

So then the priest each dreadful sin absolved, 

And home the ostler steered with whitewashed soul. 


BANTY TIM. 


139 

Just three months after this, the ostler came 
Again before the Friar to confess, 

When ’mongst his other sins he then did name 
His greasing horse's teeth with great success. 

“ Oh ! wicked son,” the holy father cried, 

“ Did you not tell me when I saw you last, 

That you had never in your life applied 

Grease to a horse’s teeth to make him fast ?” 

“ Yes, holy sir, I did, and then spoke true,” 

Replied the man of straw with utterance quick, 

“For though it may appear quite strange to you, 

I never then had heard of such a trick” 


BANTY TIM. 

REMARKS OF SERGEANT TILMON JOY TO THE WHITE MAN’S COMMITTEE 
OF SPUNKY POINT, ILLINOIS. John hav. 

I reckon I git your drift, gents — 

You ’low the boy shan’t stay; 

This is a white man’s country; 

You’re Dimocrats, you say ; 

And whereas, and seein’, and wherefore, 

The times bein’ all out o’ j’nt, 

The nigger has got to mosey 
From the limits o’ Spunky P’int ! 

Le's reason the thing a minute ; 

I’m an old-fashioned Dimocrat too, 

Though I laid my politics out o’ the way 
For to keep till the war was through. 

But I come back here, allowin’ 

To vote as I used to do, 

Though it gravels me like the devil to train 
Along o’ sich fools as you. 

Now dog my cats ef I kin see, 

In all the light of the day, 


i40 BAXTY TIM. 

"What you’ve got to do with the question 
Ef Tim shall go or stay. 

And furder than that I give notice, 

Ef one of you fetches the boy, 

He kin check his trunks to a warmer clime 
Than he’ll find in Illanoy. 

"Why, blame your hearts, jest hear me ! 

You know that ungodly day 

When our left struck Yicksburg Heights, how l ipped 
And torn and tattered we lay. 

When the rest retreated I staid behind, 

Fur reasons sufficient to me — 

With a rib caved in, and a leg on a strike, 

I sprawled on that cursed glacee. 

Lord ! how the hot sun went for us, 

And br’iled and blistered and burned ; 

How the rebel bullets whizzed round us 
When a cuss in his death-grip turned ! 

Till along toward dusk I seen a thing 
I couldn’t believe for a spell : 

That nigger — that Tim — was a-crawlin’ to me 
Through that fire-proof, gilt-edged hell ! 

The rebels seen him as quick as me, 

And the bullets buzzed like bees ; 

But he jumped for me, and shouldered me, 

Though a shot brought him once to his knees ; 

But he staggered up, and packed me off, 

With a dozen stumbles and falls, 

Till safe in our lines he drapped us both, 

His black hide riddled with balls. 

So, my gentle gazelles, thar’s my answer, 

And here stays Banty Tim : 

He trumped Death’s ace for me that day, 

And I’m not goin’ back on him ! 

You may rezoloot till the cows come home, 

But ef one of you fetches the boy, 

He’ll wrastle his hash to-night in hell, 

Or my name’s not Tilmou Joy ! 


ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 


Ml 


ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 

ROBERT H. liYTLK. 

1 am dying, Egypt, dying ; 

Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, 

And the dark Plutonian shadows 
Gather on the evening blast. 

Let thine arm, oh Queen, support me, 

Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear ; 

Hearken to the great, heart secrets 
Thou, and thou alone, must hear. 

Though my scarred and veteran legions 
Bear their eagles high no more, 

And my wrecked and scattered galleys 
Strew dark Actium’s fatal shore — 

Though no glittering guards surround me, 
Prompt to do their master's will, 

1 must perish like a Roman — 

Hie the death, Triumvir still. 

Let not Caesar’s servile minions 
Mock the lion thus laid low ; 

’Twas no foeman’s hand that felled him — 

’Twas his own that dealt the blow ; 

Here, then, pillowed on thy bosom, 

Ere j T on star shall lose its ray, 

Him, who, drunk with thy caresses, 

Madly threw the world away. 

Should the base, plebeian rabble 
Dare assail my fame at Rome, 

Where the noble spouse, Octavia, 

Weeps within her widowed home, 

Seek her ! Say the gods have told me, 

Altars, angel’s circling wings, 

That her blood, with mine commingled, 

Yet shall mount the throne of kings. 

As for thee, star-eyed Egyptian, 

Glorious sorceress of the Nile ! 


DEACON HEZEKIAH. 


Light the path to Stygian horrors 
"With the splendor of thy smile ; 

Give to CcBsar crowns and arches — 

Let his brow the laurel twine ; 

I can scorn all Cmsar’s triumphs, 
Triumphing in love like thine. 

I am dyiug, Egypt, dying ; 

Hark ! the insulting foeman’s cry ! 
They are coming ! Quick — my falchion ! 

Let me face them ere I die. 

Ah, no more amid the battle 
Shall my voice exulting swell ! 

Isis and Osiris guard thee — 

Cleopatra — Rome — farewell ! 


DEACON HEZEKIAH. 

A NO* T MOV*. 

Oh ! Hezekiah’s a pious soul, 

With his phiz as long as a hickory pole, 

And he wouldn't smile if you’d give him the whole 
Of the gold in California. 

There he sits, like a cloud, in his Sunday pew, 

With his book in his hand, in his long- tailed blue, 

And you’d better take care or he’ll look you through 
With a glance that says, “ I scorn ye.” 

He is very straight, and narrow, and tall, 

From the crown to the hem of his over-all ; 

And he sings the psalm with a woeful drawl, 

And a mouth like a clam’s when it’s crying; 
But when Monday comes he is up with the sun ; 

His religion is over, his work begun, 

And you’d think that there wasn’t a world but one, 
And he hadn’t a thought of dying. 

You would think he was sorry he’d lost a day, 

As he rushes and rattles and drives away, 

As he gives the poor orphan a crusty “nay,” 

And the widow a vinegar greeting; 


THE FRENCHMAN AND THE LANDLORD. 143 

And he bargains, and sells, and collects his rent, 

Nor tears nor petitions can make him relent, 

Till he gets in his pocket each doubtful cent, 

Though he wouldn’t be seen a-cheating ! 

And Tuesday, and Wednesday, and all the week, 

He doesn’t know Gentile, nor Jew, nor Greek, 

Nor care whom he robs of the last beef-steak, 

Nor the last poor hope of fire. 

But Hezekiah is pious, very ! 

For who in the world ever saw him merry? 

And he looks as forlorn as a dromedary, 

And his voice, of itself, is a choir. 


THE FRENCHMAN AND THE LANDLORD. 

ANONTMOUK. 

A shrewd and wealthy old landlord, away down in Maine, 
is noted for driving his “ sharp bargains,” by which he has 
amassed a large amount of property. He is the owner of a 
large number of dwelling-houses, and it is said of him that 
he is not over-scrupulous of his rental charges, whenever 
he can find a customer whom he knows to be responsible. 
His object is to lease his house for a term of years to the 
best tenants, and get the uttermost farthing in the shape 
of rent. 

A diminutive Frenchman called on him last winter, to 
hire a dwelling he owned in Portland, and which had long 
remained empty. References were given, and the land- 
lord, ascertaining that the tenant was a man “ after his own 
heart,” immediately commenced to u Jew” him. He found 
that the tenement appeared to suit the Frenchman, and he 
placed an exorbitant price upon it ; the leases were drawn 
and duly executed, and the tenant removed into his new 
quarters. 

Upon kindling fires in the house, it was found that the 


144 


THE FRENCHMAN AND THE LANDLORD. 


chimneys wouldn’t ‘ draw,’ and the building was filled with 
smoke. The window-sashes rattled in the wind at night, 
and the cold air rushed through a hundred crevices about 
the house until now unnoticed. The snow melted upon the 
roof, and the attics were drenched from the leakage. The 
rain pelted, and our Frenchman found a “ natural” bath- 
room upon the second floor — but the lease was signed and 
the landlord chuckled. 

“I have been vat you sail call ‘suck in,’ vis zis dam 
maison,” muttered our victim to himself a week after- # 
wards,” but n’ import e , ve sal se vat ve sal see.” 

Next morning he arose bright and early, and passing 
down he encountered the landlord. 

“Ah ha ! — Bon jour, monsieur,” said he in his happiest 
manner. 

“ Good day, sir. How do you like your house ?” 

“Ah! monsieur — elegant, beautiful, magnificent. Eh 
bien, monsieur, I have ze one regret ! ” 

“Ah! What is that f ” 

“I sal live in zat house but tree little year.” 

“How so ?” 

“I have find by vot you call ze lease, zat you have give 
me ze house but for tree year, and I ver mooch sorrow 
for zat.” 

“ But you can have it longer if you wish — ” 

“ Ah, monsieur, sal be ver mooch glad if I can have zat 
house so long as I please — eh — monsieur V ’ 

“ Oh, certainly, certainly, sir.” 

“ Tres bien, monsieur ! I sal valk rite to your offees, an 
you sal give me vot you call ze lease for tha {maison jcs so 
long as I sal rant the house. Eh, monsieur ?” 

“Certainly, sir. You can stay there your lifetime, if 
you like.” 

“Ah, monsieur — I have ver mooch tanks for zis accom- 
modation.” 

The old lease was destroyed and a new one was deliv- 


THE FAMILY QUAKKEL. 


145 


ered in form to the French gentleman, giving him posses- 
sion of the premises for “ such a period as the lessee may 
desire the same, he paying the rent promptly, &c.” 

The next morning our crafty landlord was passing the 
house just as the Frenchman’s last load of furniture was 
being started from the door: an hour afterwards, a mes- 
senger called on him with a legal tender, for the rent for 
eight days, accompanied with a note as follows : 

“ Monsieur — I have been smoke — I have been drouned 
— I have been fees to death, in ze house vat I av hire of 
you for ze period as I may desire. I have stay in ze dam 
house jes so long as I please , and ze bearer of zis vill give 
you ze key ! Bon jour, monsieur.” 

It is needless to add that our landlord has never since 
been known to give up “a bird in the hand for one in the 
bush.” 


THE FAMILY QUARREL. 

A POLITICAL DIALOGUE. anonymous. 

He. — 0 Mollie, my love, is it you that I see 

A marchin’ around with this “ suffrage ” idee, 

A swingin’ your arms and a scrapin’ your throat 
Abusin’ the men with your “ right to a vote ?” 

If I see, if I hear, 

It is true, it is clear, 

You’re not the same girl that I married a year. 

She. — Now 'Willie, my dear, you know it is true, 

That Mollie has never been ugly to you ; 

Who is it that nurses you when you are sick, 

Although you are cross as the very old Nick ? 

If you see, if you hear, 

It is true, it is clear, 

She’s a much better girl than you married last year. 

He. — I married an angel born of the sky, 

Its light, and its truth, and its love in her eye, 


146 THE FAMILY QUARREL. 

The song of the seraphim swelling her throat, 

But now I am deaf with her right to a vote. 

Tell me why, if you can. 

If you can, if you can, 

I find her at last but a “ feminine man/' 

She. — 0 Willie, you know when you fell on your knees 
I then had the power to “ veto ” your “please 
I “voted in favor,” you promised so brave — 

You promised so humbly to be a meek “ slave.” 

Tell me why, if you can. 

If you can, if you can, 

That now I am not even “ equal ” to man ! 

He. — 0 Mollie, my bird, had I seen you just then, 

Astride of this hobby, abusin’ the men, 

A sawin’ the air and a scrapin’ your throat, 

And a screamin’ like mad of your “right to a vote,” 
You’d have had, do you see, 

I>o you see, do you see. 

No ghost of a chance to say “ veto ” to me. 

She. — My master and lord, he would keep me a slave, 

A mendin* his socks till I sink in the grave, 

A luggin’ the baby, a cookin’ the meals, 

With three babies more clinging close at my heels. 

I declare, that is fiat, 

That is flat, that is flat, 

No tyrant would ever be “ equal ” to that. 

He. — I t’s no easy thing to earn money for bread, 

To pay for the roof which may shelter the head, 

It’s no easy thing, if I recollect right, 

It’s no easy thing just to stand up and fight, 

I declare, that is flat, 

That is flat, that is flat. 

My better-half never was “ equal ” to that. 

She. — Oh, dear, I do wish I had been an old maid. 

Had worked at some place where fair wages were paid, 
Or married an equal instead of a brute, 

I’d send to the wars such a brave substitute. 


THE FAMILY QUARREL. 


147 


But alas for my fate ! 

But alas for my fate ! 

I’m ground to the dust “for the good of the State.” 

Mj He. — 0 Mollie, I’m glad you are not an old maid, 

At work at some place where good wages are paid ; 
If you were my “ equal,” I know how ’twould be, 
You’d vote for a fight, and then — substitute me ! 
Then alas for my fate. 

Then alas for my fate, 

To be ground into dust for the good of the State ! 

She. — N ow Willie, you know you’re my joy and pride, 

I never am happy if not at your side ; 

So just tell me truly, have women no rights, 

But the needle o’ day and the baby o’ nights? 

How between you and me, 

Just between you and me, 

Is it dreadfully wicked to wish to be free ? 

He. — H ow Mollie, my dove, from my heart I declare, 
They only are married who everything share ; 

The toils of the house, the toils of the street, 

Must ever keep step to our heart’s double beat; 
How between you and me, 

Just between you and me, 

It’s lovin’, not votin,’ that makes a man “ free.” 

She. — O f superfine speeches I’ve had quite enough, 

I’ll listen no more to your soft-solder stuff’. 

Will you go to the polls and vote like a man 
For the Sixteenth Amendment ? 

He. — I don’t think I can. 

She. — T hen off goes my ring, 

From your house I take wing. 

You ugly old brute ! 

He. — Y ou silly young thing. 


148 


THE GUESS. 


THE GUESS. 

AN OLD ENGLISH RECITATION. anonymous. 

Tom Poplin was a London modem spark, 

Such as we see on Sundays in Hyde Park, 

Or mounted on a sleek and handsome filly, 

Through Regent street, Pall-mall, or Piccadilly, 

Pursue their way, elate with conscious pride, 

And doubtless pleased to think how well they ride, 

How grand they look, and how the poor pedestrian 
Must be delighted with the art equestrian, 

Or rather with their skill — but hold — a trace 
To anything that might be deem'd abuse. 

Like others, he adopted every plan 
To be supposed a military man ; 

Could hold himself erect — his tight new coat — 

His boots — his spurs — his stock, that cramp’d his throat — 
His waist compressed — his swagg’ring martial stride, 

In the most skeptical a doubt defied : 

He might, indeed, be term’d a downright swell; 

And why not ? I would ask you, who could tell 
That such a gentleman could e’er be seen 
To measure satin, silk, or bombazeen ¥ 

The truth will out, in spite of all this vapor ; 

He was assistant to a linen-draper, 

And nothing more — yet I would not upbraid 
A man for following such or such a trade. 

Tired of the odious shop, one summer day 
Tom hired a steed — to Brighton took his way, 

Abode of vanity and fashion ! — what a dash 
He there would cut ! how he could spend his cash ; 

And such like thoughts the pleasant road beguiled, 

And at his sure success he inward smiled. 

Tom deem’d, too, he was not devoid of wit — 

Indeed, sometimes he made a lucky hit; 

But when his converse took a witty turn, 

That which he uttered he had first to learn. 


THE ATHEIST AND ACORN. 


149 


Arrived where two roads meet, at dusk of night, 

Awhile our hero pondered which was right ; 

As thus he mused a plow-boy chanced to pass ; 

“ "What’s to be done ? I’ll ask this clownish ass- 
Though they’re so very stupid, to their shame, 

These bumpkins scarce can tell their Christian name. 

“Is this the road to Brighton, Jack?” he said; 

The clown was wise, and grinn’d, and scratch’d his head, 
And thus replied : “ First tell me how you know 
My name is Jack ?” “ Why, boy, I guess’d ’twas so ; 

I could not know it.” “ Oh, guess’d it, you say, 

Why, then to Brighton you may guess your way !” 


THE ATHEIST AND ACORN. 

A POPULAR RECITATION. anontmovb. 

Methinks the world seems oddly made, 

And everything amiss, 

A dull complaining Atheist said, 

As stretch’d he lay beneath the shade, 

And instanc’d it in this: 

“Behold,” quoth he, “ that mighy thing, 

A pumpkin large and round, 

Is held but by a little string, 

Which upwards cannot make it spring, 

Nor bear it from the ground. 

While on this oak an acorn small, 

So disproportion’d grows, 

That whosoe’er surveys this all, 

This universal casual ball, 

Its ill contrivance knows. 

My better judgment would have hung 
The pumpkin on the tree, 

And left the acorn slightly strung, 

’Mongst things that on the surface sprung, 

And weak and feeble be. 


150 


BROTHER WATKINS. 


No more the caviller could ,say, 

No further faults descry ; 

For upwards gazing, as he lay, 

An acorn, loosen’d from its spray, 

Fell down upon his eye. 

The wounded part with tears ran o’er, 

As punish’d for that sin : 

Fool ! had that bough a pumpkin bore, 
Thy whimsies would have work’d no more, 
Nor skull have kept them in. 


BROTHER WATKINS. 

A CAPITAL. STORY AS TOLD BY JOHN GOUGH. 

We have the subjoined discourse, delivered by a South- 
ern divine, who had removed to a new field of labor. To 
his new flock, on the first day of his ministration, he gave 
some reminiscences of his former charge, as follows : 

“My beloved brethering, before I take my text I must 
tell you about my parting with my old congregation. On 
the morning of last Sabbath I went into the meeting-house 
to preach my farewell discourse. Just in front of me sot 
the old fathers and mothers in Israel; the tears coursed 
down their furrowed cheeks; their tottering forms and 
quivering lips breathed out a sad fare ye tvell, brother 
Watkins — ah! Behind them sot the middle aged men 
and matrons ; health and vigor beamed from every coun- 
tenance; and as they looked up I could see in their 
dreamy eyes —fare ye well , brother Watkins — ah ! Behind 
them sot the boys and girls that I had baptized and gather- 
ed into the Sabbath-school. Many times had they been 
rude and boisterous, but now their merry laugh was hushed, 
and in the silence I could hear—; fare ye well , brother Wat- 
kins — ah ! Around, on the back seats, and in the aisles, 
stood and sot the colored brethering, with their black 


HANS IN A FIX. 


151 


faces and honest hearts, and as I looked upon them I could 
see a —fare ye well , brother Watkins — ah ! When I had 
finished my discourse and shaken hands with the brether- 
iug — ah ! I passed out to take a last look at the old church 
— ah! the broken steps, the flopping blinds, and moss- 
covered roof, suggested only— fare ye well , brother Wat- 
kins — ah ! I mounted my old gray mare, with my earthly 
possessions in my saddle-bags, and as I passed down the 
street the servant-girls stood in the doors, and with their 
brooms waved me a —fare ye ivell, brother Watkins — ah ! 
As I passed out of the village the low wind blew softly 
through the waving branches of the trees, and moaned — 
fare ye well , brother Watkins — ah! I came down to the 
creek, and as the old mare stopped to drink I could hear 
the water rippling over the pebbles a —fare ye ivell , brother 
Watkins — ah! And even the little fishes, as their bright 
fins glistened in the sunlight, I thought, gathered around 
to say, as best they could— fare ye ivell , brother Watkins 
—ah ! I was slowly passing up the hill, meditating upon 
the sad vicissitudes and mutations of life, when suddenly 
out bounded a big hog -from a fence corner, with aboo ! 
aboo ! and I came to the ground with my saddle-bags by 
my side. As I lay in the dust of the road my old gray 
mare run up the hill, and as she turned the top she waved 
her tail back at me , seemingly to say— fare ye well , brother 
Watkins — ah ! I tell you, my brethering, it is affecting 
times to part with a congregation you have been with for 
over thirty years — ah !” 


HANS IN A FIX. 

Ven I lays myself down in my lonely pedroom, 
Unt dries vor to sleep werry soundt, 

De treams — oh, how into my het tey vill gome, 
Till I vi«h I was uuter der groundt ! 


152 


TO-MORROW. 


Sometimes, ven I eats von pig supper, I treams 
Dat my shtomack is filt full of sh tones, 

Unt out in mine shleep, like ter tuvfel, I shcreems, 
Unt kick off ter ped-glose, unt groans ! 

Ben dere, ash I lay mit ter ped-glose all off, 

I kits myself all over vroze ; 

In te morning I vakes mit te headaches unt cough, 
Unt I’m zick vrom mine het to mine dose. 

Oh, vat shall be dun ver a poor man like me ? 

Yat for do I lif such a life ? 

Some say dere’s a cure vor drouples of me : 

Dinks I’ll dry it, unt kit me von vife ! 


TO-MORROW. 

AXONYMOtfft. 

A bright little boy with laughing face, 

Whose every motion was full of grace. 

Who knew no trouble and feared no care. 

Was the light of our household — the youngest there. 

He was too young, this little elf, 

With troublesome questions to vex himself ; 

But for many days a thought would arise, 

And bring a shade to the dancing eyes. 

He went to one whom he thought more wise 
Than any other beneath the skies ; 

“Mother” — oh word that makes the home ! 

“ Tell me, when will to-morrow come ?” 

“It is almost night,” the mother said, 

“ And time for my boy to be in bed : 

When you wake up and it’s day again, 

It will be to-morrow, my darling, then.” 

The little boy slept through all the night. 

But woke with the first red streaks of light ; 

He pressed a kiss on his mother’s brow, 

And whispered, “Is it to-morrow now f” 


THE HIGHGATE BUTCHER. 


153 


“ No, little Eddie, this is to-day ; 

To-morrow is always one night away.” 

He pondered awhile, but joys came fast, 

And the vexing question quickly passed. 

But it came again with the shades of night ; 

“Will it be to-mqrrow when it is light?” 

From years to come he seemed care to borrow, 

He tried so hard to catch to-morrow. 

“ You cannot catch it, my little Ted : 

Enjoy to-day,” the mother said ; 

“ Some wait for to-morrow through many a year — 
It always is coming, but it never is here.” 


THE HIGHGATE BUTCHER. 

RECITED BY MR. MATHEWS. 

This man was very ostentatious of his affected knowl- 
edge of the History of England, a book he was constantly 
reading from morning to night, and which he so much ad- 
mired, that he never served a customer but he related a 
part of the subject he had been reading in the course of 
the day. You’ll suppose a customer to be standing there , 
and a friend seated with him behind the counter here, 
which will account for the following curious jumble : 

What d’ye buy, what d’ye buy — well, how are you ? how 
do you do ? I am wery glad to see you ; how are all the 
family ? this is wery kind to call in this here way. I’ve 
been reading as usual all this here blessed morning, that 
favorite book of mine, Hume’s History in England ; what 
a book that ’ere is ; how hinstructive and hentertaining 
Hume’s History in England is — ten-pence a pound, ma’am. 
I’ve been reading the fourth ivolum, it’s a wery thick un, 
wery thick indeed — make nice soup, ma’am — Queen Mary 
— make nice Scotch collops, ma’am. Sir Isaac Newton was 


154 


THE LUCKY CALL. 


a great man, he knew all about the pole-axe of the fixed 
star and how long it would take a mau to go in a taxed 
cart to the moon. Queen Elizabeth went to St. Paul’s on 
a pillion — that saddle of mutton’s just your weight, ma’am. 
I’ve been reading, dear me — I’ve been a reading King 
Charles; you’ve heard of him, hain’t you? hid himself in St. 
James’s Park ever since; no, it waren’t St. James’s Park, 
war it ? however, I know it was in some park ; but the 
wicked rascals caught him and cut off his head — make a 
capital hash with parsley garnish, ma’am. Cardinal Wul- 
sey's father was a butcher, so am I ; there’s a curious coin- 
cidence, ain’t it? and Henry the Eighth married Queen 
Elizabeth ; no, he didn’t though, for she war his mother ; 
no, that couldn’t be — she warn't his mother — but she war 
some relation. King Henry the Eighth — that’s a nice fat 
bit, ma’am ; take it wi’ you.” This was the learned ora- 
tion that issued from this Socrates of the shambles, and 
drew a pretty numerous audience round his shop. 


THE LUCKY CALL. 

ANONYMOUS. 

A country curate visiting his flock, 

At old Rebecca’s cottage gave a knock. 

“ Good morrow, dame, I mean not any libel, 

But in your dwelling have you got a Bible?” 

“ A Bible, sir ?” exclaim’d she in a rage, 

“ D’ye think I’ve turn’d a Pagan in my age ? 

Here, Judith, and run up stairs, my dear, 

’Tis in the drawer, be quick, and bring it here.” 

The girl return’d with Bible in a minute, 

Not dreaming for a moment what was in it; 

•When lo ! on opening it at parlor door, 

Down fell her spectacles upon the floor. 

Amaz’d she stared, was for a moment dumb, 

But quick exclaim’d, “ Dear sir, I’m glad you're come, 


CHALLENGING THE FOREMAN. 


155 


'Tis six years since these glasses first were lost, 
A nd I have missed 'em to my poor eyes' cost ! " 
Then as the glasses to her nose she raised, 

She closed the Bible — saying “ God be praised !” 


CHALLENGING THE FOREMAN. 

A GENTLEMANLY MISTAKE. 

You tell me, said Terence, (when called to the bar 
For forcing an heiress to leave her papa, ) 

I may challenge the jury, in whole or in part, 

Yet though really injured, I have not the heart 
To fight for an insult invisibly small, 

For these honest souls have done nothing at all. 

The trial proceeded — the proofs appeared clear — 

And folks for the verdict were all eye and ear : 

Then, instantly turning, the foreman pronounc’d 
The pithy word “ guilty,” at which Terence bounced ; 
A flush of astonishment came o'er his cheek, 

And for once in his life he felt troubled to speak. 
Manslaughter ! he roar'd, an ungracious assault 
On a peace-making Christian, who has not a fault; 
And others thought like him — but now they shall see 
This mode of deciding things won’t do for me ; 

I beg, Mr. Justice, you'll pull in your oar, man, 

I've tried this same jury and find it a bore, man ; 

So call in the pistols — I challenge the foreman ! 


THE COUNTRY SCHOOLMASTER. 

AN OLD ENGLISH RECITATION. a*onymou». 

A country schoolmaster, height Jonas Bell, 

Once undertook of little souls 
To burnish up their jobber nowls — 

In other words, he taught them how to spell. 


156 


THE MATRIMONIAL BUGS. 


And well adapted to the task was Bell, 

Whose iron visage measured half an ell ; 

With huge proboscis, and eyes of soot, 

Arm’d at the jowl just like a boar — 

And when he gave an angry roar 
The little school-boys stood, like fishes, mute. 

Poor Jonas, though a patient man as Job, 

(Yet still, like Job, was sometimes heard to growl), 
Was by a scholar’s adamantine nob 
Beyond all patience gravell’d to the soul ! 

I question whether Jonas in the fish 
Did ever diet on a bitterer dish. 

’Twas thus : A lady who supported Bell 
Came unexpectedly to hear them spell : 

The pupil fixed on by the pedagogue, 

Her son, a little round-faced ruddy rogue, 

Who thus his letters on the table laid : 

M, I, L, K, — and paused — “Well, sir, what’s that?” 

“ I cannot tell,” the boy all trembling said — 

“ Not tell ! you little blind and stupid brat ! 

Hot tell !” roar’d Jonas, in a violent rage, 

And quick prepared an angry war to wage — 

“ Tell me this instant, or I’ll flay thy hide — 

Come, sir? 

Dost thou this birchen weapon see ? 

What puts thy mother in her tea ?” 

With lifted eyes, the quaking rogue replied, 

“ Bum, sir !” 


THE MATRIMONIAL BUGS AND THE TRAVELERS. 

ANONYMOUS. 

Not far from town there is a country inn, 

To which weary travelers do oft resort; 

It e’er was famed for good strong ale and gin, 

The best — the very best — there for money might be 
bought. 

A t this said inn two travelers did stop 

To rest their wearied limbs, and eat and drink : 


THE MATRIMONIAL BUGS. 


157 


The good strong ale they pretty soon did top, 

Their glass and teeth together did most musically chink. 
Says one of the guests to their good landlord straight, 

As we intend till morning here to wait, 

Perhaps you can let us have a bed for two ?” 

“Yes, zartain zure !” the landlord soon exclaim’d, 

“We have good beds of which we aren’t ashamed; 

Zo there is one, zur, for your friend and you.” 

“ ’Tis well !” then cries the gent, “ twill do ! 

I hope no bugs will plague us, though ?” 

“No,” says the landlord, with his buxom face, 

“ There’s not a single bug in the whole place.” 

Thus satisfied, they ’gan to think 
What they should have to eat and drink ; 

“ Landlord,” cries one, “ late is the time ; 

My stomach doth to cupboard chime — 

Something for supper must be got ; 

Say, landlord, can we have it hot ?” 

“No. ” “ Then cold must do, in time of need 
So that we have it, host, with speed.” 

“Odd, rot!” the landlord cries, “zome ham 
We’ve tender, zur, as any lamb.” 

“Well, that will do, so let us have it soon, 

For I’m as hungry, sir, as any roon.” 

The supper then did quickly come, 

Which in their mouths soon found a home 
Their wine they drank, then went to bed ; 

But soon, oh ! they were fill’d with dread ; 

For soon as they did try to sleep — 

Oh, dire mishap ! 

The bugs around their bodies ’gan to creep, 

Their blood to lap ! 

Out of bed they jump’d with rage, 

With their host a war to wage. 

The bell they rang with vengeance dire ; 

They pulled as if they’d break the wire — 

The landlord comes up with a bow, 

The cause of all this noise to know. 

“Rascal ! are you not ashamed,” 


158 


PETER SORGHUM IN LOVE. 


Says he whose face with vengeance flamed, 

“ To show us to that filthy bed, 

Where bugs all creep around our head ?” 

“ Why zartain zure ! odd rot ! zur — ” 

•'Ho, no excuse, you sneaking cur; 

You rascal, you, did you not say 
Not a single bug would plague us, eh ?” 

“ Why, no more, zur, is there a single bug, odd rot ! 
They all be married, and large families got ” 


PETER SORGHUM IN LOVE. 

A CAPITAL YANKEE STORY. ai.f. jutknktt. 

One day Sail fooled me ; she heated the poker awful 
hot, then asked me to stir the fire. I seized hold of it 
mighty quick to oblige her, and dropped it quicker to 
oblige myself. Well, after the poker scrape, me and Sail 
only got on middlin’ well for some time, till I made up my 
mind to pop the question, for I loved her harder every day, 
and I had an idee she loved me or had a sneaking kind- 
ness for me. But how to do the thing up nice and rite 
pestered me orful. I bought some love books, and read 
how the fellers git down onter their knees and talk like 
poets, and how the girls would gently-like fall in love with 
them. But somehow or other that way didn’t kinder suit 
my notion. I asked mam how she and dad courted, but she 
said it had been so long she had forgotten all about it. 
Uncle Jo said mam did all the courting. 

At last I made up my mind to go it blind, for this thing 
was farely consumin’ my mind ; so I goes over to her dad’s, 
and when I got there I sot like a fool, thinkin’ how to begin. 
Sail seed somethin’ was troublin’ me, so she said, says she, 
“Ain’t you sick, Peter?” She said this mity soft-like. 
“ Yes! No !” sez I; “that is, I an’t zackly well; I thought 
I’d come over to night,” sez I. I tho’t that was a mity 


PETER SORGHUM IJf LOVE. 


159 


party beginnin’ ; so I tried agin. “ Sail,” sez I — and by 
this time I felt kinder faintly about the stommuck, and 
shaky about the knees — “ Sail,” sez I. 11 What ?” sez she. 
“ Sail,” sez I agin. “ What ?” sez she. HI get to it arter 
a while at this rate, thinks I. “ Peter,” says she, “there’s 
suthin’ troublin’ you ; ’tis mighty wrong for you to keep it 
from a body, for an inard sorrer is a consumin’ fire.” She 
said this, she did, the sly critter. She knowed what was 
the matter all the time mighty well, and was only tryin’ to 
fish it out, but I was so far gone I couldn’t see the point. 
At last I sorter gulped down the big lump a risin’ in my 
throat, and sez I, sez I, “Sail, do you love anybody?” 
“ Well,” sez she, “there’s dad and mam,” and a countin’ of 
her fingers all the time, with her eyes sorter shet like a 
fellar shootin’ off a gun, “and there’s old Pide (that were 
their old cow,) and I can’t think of anybody else just now,” 
says she. Now, this was orful for a feller ded in love ; so 
arter a while I tried another shute. Sez I, “ Sail,” sez I, 
“ I’m powerful lonesome at home, and sometimes think if 
I only had a nice pretty wife, to love and talk to, move, 
and have my bein’ with, I’d be a tremendous feller.” Sez 
I, “ Sail, do you know any gal would keer for me?” With 
that she begins, and names over all the gals for five miles 
around, and never once came nigh naming of herself, and 
sed I oughter git one of them. This sorter got my dander 
up, so I hitched my cheer up close to her, and shet my 
eyes and sed, “ Sall, you are the very gal I’ve been hank- 
ering arter for a long time. I luv you all over, from the 
sole of your head to the crown of your foot, and I don’t 
care who nos it, and if you say so we’ll be jined together 
in th§ holy bonds of hemlock, Epluribusunum, world with- 
out endj amen !” sez I ; and then I felt like I’d throwed up 
an alligator, I felt so relieved. With that she fetched a 
sorter screem, and arter a while sez, sez she, “Peter!” 
“What, Sally?” sez I. “Yes!” sez she, a hidin’ of her face 
behind her hands. You bet a heap I felt good. “ Glory ! 


100 


TIM TUFF. 


glory !” sez I, “ I must holler, Sail, or I shall bust. Hooray 
for hooray ! I can jump over a ten-rail fence !” With that I 
sot rite down by her and clinched the bargain with a kiss. 
Talk about yout blackberry jam ; talk about your sugar 
and merlasses ; you wouldn’t a got me nigh ’em — they 
would all a been sour arter that. Oh, these gals ! how 
good and bad, how high and low they do make a feller 
feel ! If Sail’s daddy hadn’t sung out ’twas time all honest 
folks was abed, I’d a sot there two hours longer. You 
oughter have seen me when I got home ! I pulled dad out 
of bed and hugged him ! I pulled mam out of bed and 
hugged her ! I pulled aunt Jane out of bed and hugged 
her. I larfed and hollered, crowed like a rooster , danced 
round there, and cut up more capers than you ever heerd 
tell on, till dad thought I was crazy, and -got a rope to tie 
me with. “ Dad,’ 1 sez I, “ I’m goin ’ to be married /” “Mar- 
ried !” bawled dad. “Married!” squalled mam. “Mar- 
ried ! ” screamed aunt Jane. “ Ye§, married, ” sez I ; 
“married all over, married for sure, married like a flash — 
joined in wedlock, hooked on for life, for worser or for 
better, for life and for death — to Sall ! I am that very 
thing — me ! Peter Sorghum Esquire !” 

With that I ups and tells ’em all about it from Alfer to 
Ermeger ! They was all mighty well pleased, and I went 
to bed as proud as a young rooster with his first spurs. 


TIM TUFF. 

KDWARD CAPER*. 

Did you ever hear tell of old Timothy Tuff, 

And the bargain he struck with Sir Peregrine Muff ? 

If not, give an ear, and you’ll very soon smile 
At a very sharp trick of a cunning old file. 

Our Tim was a very good fellow, they say, 

For making a “ deal ” in his own sort of way ; 

So placid in manner, so smooth-tongued and civil, 


TIM TUFF. 


J61 


That he seldom fell out with the very old “ divil.” 

No matter whatever the business or job, 

Or whether he cheated a beggar or “nob,” 

His father or brother, or “ dear cousin John,” 

So long as he minded his great number one. 

Tim’s conscience, you see, seldom knew any twitches, 

Since that was as tough as his buff leather breeches. 

And now, peradventure, you’d like me to draw 
His portrait, as Tim in the market I saw. 

First, then, to begin, he had squinting pig’s eyes, 

A pug turn-up nose, and a mouth of huge size ; 

Not pleased with one chin, Timmy always showed two ; 
And the old wig he wore he once bought of a Jew — 

At a very long credit, if rumor be true. 

Now Tim was not short, and Tim was not tall, 

No giant in girth, and yet not very small ; 

A very long coat ’neath a very broad hat. 

And a waistcoat once black, but now snuffy and fat, 

With a pair of old top-boots once worn by the squire, 

Was the “ rig” of bald Timmy, the puffer and liar. 

Just a word about Timothy’s trade : ’twas a robber, 

Or something much like it, a run-about jobber. 

When pigs were in danger of losing their life 
Tim saved the poor creatures by using the knife ; 

And if an old “jibber” e’er fell in his way, 

Tim “chopped” an old “kicker,” and made his man pay. 
No sheep, howe’er “ cawded,” no lean “ skentered ” cow, 
(’Tis true, I declare, what I’m telling you now,) 

But turned him in cash as good mutton or beef, 

And honest men sold all they could to the thief. 

Sir Peregrine Muff was out riding one day, 

On a sweet little pony, a dark colored bay ; 

With a sugar-loaf hat, and a vest of bright yellow, 

And a pair of “ white ducks,” when he met with the fellow. 
Tim saw, by Sir Peregrine’s cut of the coat, 

And the tufts that he wore on his chin, like a goat, 

By the rings on his fingers, his necktie and pin, 

That the dandy young swell was a thing to take in. 

So, eyeing Sir Peregrine Muff for a while, 


162 


THE ROMANCE OF NICK VAN STANN. 


“ Good momin’, yer honor/’ said Tim, with a smile. 

Sir Peregrine made him a very low bow, 

And asked him the price of his nwice wooking cwow. 

“ I’m twi’d of this pony,” Sir Peregrine said, 

“ And I thwink I sha’ kweep a mwilch cwow in his stwead. 
■\7hat mwilk will she gwive neow a day, if I shwop ? ” 

“ Eight quarts,” chuckled Tim, “ cf he gees orra drop.” 

Sir Peregrine thought, as he looked at each feature, 

That Crumple appeared such a beautiful creature. 

He offered to give Tim the pony he strode 

If he would but agree then and there on the road. 

Tim’s eyes, like the stars on a cold frosty night, 

Soon twinkled with joy, and quoth he to the knight, 
u ’Tis hardly enu’, yet ef off ee wull zlip, 

And,” greedily eyeing a silver -knobbed whip, 

“ Let me ha’e the bridle and zaddle to boot, 

And the crittur is yours, and as cheap as the ‘ groot.’ 

And, zir, as ez want vor tu git alung quick, 

Your whip’ll du better, ez thinks, than a stick.” 

The bargain was struck, and away galloped Tim, 

And laughed in his sleeve at Sir Peregrine’s whim ; 

But as for the baronet, he, in his pride, 

TTas driving his cow when his maid he espied. 

Sir Peregrine’s brain, ever given to dream, 

"Was feasting away on rich visions of cream, 

"When thus to his dairymaid, “ Ma-awy,” said he, 

“Aw vewy fwine cweature indweed, isn’t she? 

You’ll mwilk her each mworn and you’ll mwilk her each eve, 
Take cware of her, Ma-awy, for neow I must leave.” 

“ Gude lawks ! ” screamed the dairymaid ; “ zir, tez a hox.” 

“ Dwear me,” drawled Sir Peregrine ; “ hang the old fox.” 


THE ROMANCE OF NICK VAN STANN. 

JOHN O. 

I cannot vouch my tale is true, 

Nor say, indeed, ’tis wholly new ; 

But true or false, or new or old, 

I think you’ll find it fairly told. 


THE ROMANCE OF NICK VAN STANN. 


163 


A Frenchman, who had ne’er before 
Set foot upon a foreign shore, 

Weary of home, resolved to go 
And see what Holland had to show. 

He didn’t know a word of Dutch, 

But that could hardly grieve him much ; 

He thought, as Frenchmen always do, 

That all the world could “ parley- voo.” 

At length our eager tourist stands 
Within the famous Netherlands, 

And, strolling gaily here and there, 

In search of something rich and rare, 

A lordly mansion greets his eyes : 

“ How beautiful !” the Frenchman cries, 

And, bowing to the man who sate 
In livery at the garden gate, 

“ Pray, Mr. Porter, if you please, 

Whose very charming grounds are these ? 

And, pardon me, be pleased to tell 
Who in this splendid house may dwell f” 

To which, in Dutch, the puzzled man 
Replied what seemed like “Nick Yan Stann.”* 
“Thanks !” said the Gaul ; “the owner’s taste 
Is equally superb and chaste ; 

So fine a house, upon my word, 

Not even Paris can afford. 

With statues, too, in every niche ; 

Of course Monsieur Yan Stann is rich, 

And lives, I warrant, like a king — 

Ah ! wealth must be a charming thing !” 

In Amsterdam the Frenchman meets 
A thousand wonders in the streets, 

But most he marvels to behold 
A lady dressed in silk and gold ; 

Gazing with rapture on the dame, 

He begs to know the lady’s name, 

And hears, to raise his wonder more, 

The very words lie heard before ! 

* Nicht verstann— I don’t understand. 


164 


THE ROMANCE OF NICK YAN STANN. 


“ Mercie !” he cries; “ well, on my life, 
Milord has got a charming wife ; 

’Tis plain to see, this Nick Yan Stann 
Must be a very happy man. ,, 

Next day our tourist chanced to pop 
His head within a lottery shop, 

And there he saw, with staring eyes, 

The drawing of the mammoth prize. 

“ Ten millions ! ’tis a pretty sum ; 

I wish I had as much at home : 

I’d like to know, as I’m a sinner, 

"What lucky fellow is the winner V 7 
Conceive our traveler’s amaze 
To hear again the hackneyed phrase. 
“TVIiat? no ! not Nick Yan Stann again ? 
Faith ! he’s the luckiest of men. 

You may be sure we don’t advance 
So rapidly as that in France : 

A house, the finest in the land ; 

A lovely garden, nicely planned ; 

A perfect angel of a wife, 

And gold enough to last a life ; 

There never yet was mortal man 
So blest as Monsieur Nick Yan Stann ! 

Next day the Frenchman chanced to meet 
A pompous funeral in the street ; 

And, asking one who stood close by 
What nobleman had pleased to die, 

"Was stunned to hear the old reply. 

The Frenchman sighed and shook his head, 
“Mon Dieu ! poor Nick Yan Stann is dead ; 
With such a house, and such a wife, 

It must be hard to part with life ; 

And then, to lose that mammoth prize — 

He wins, and, pop — the winner dies ! 

Ah, well ! his blessings came so fast, 

I greatly feared they could not last ; 

And thus, we see, the sword of Fate 
Cuts down alike the small and great. 


THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 


165 


THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 

A HUMOROUS RECITATION. DR . valkntink. 

President — “ Gentlemen, the question for debate this 
evening is, whether love is a passion of the heart or of the 
soul i I want the gentlemen to speak up so I can hear 
; em, and to do all their sneezin' and coughin' before they 
begins, and every one blow his nose beforehand, so as he 
shan't stop to do it when he makes his speech ; and here’s 
my handkerchief for any one as hasn’t got none. Mr. 
Caesar Augustus Washington Snooks will open the debate.” 

Snooks — “ Mr. President, we have come together this 
evening, as I take it, to come to a decision. I was one of 
the first members in it, and we did it to improve the mind; 
for, as Mr. Samuel Shakspear says, 1 Now is the winter of 
our discontent made glorious by the son of New York.' 
We expect this night, if we all have our health, to decide 
on the problemities of love, and tell where it lays and what 
is its symptoms. And just as the President says, so it shall 
be, whether it's in the heart, or in the soul, or in the heel. 
If he says so, it shall be so, and because why — why you see 
because it shall — 

“This is a very important subject we are goin' to decide, 
and the opinion of this Society will go forth to the world 
like the signers of the Declaration of Independence. And 
in after life, when our locks are in the yellow leaf, we may 
look back with pride on this evening ; and people in the 
land, now abed, will hold our names dog-cheap. And I 
go in for love being in the heart, cause I was once in love 
myself, and I swow my heart felt jest like a shot partridge, 
and I couldn’t felt worse if I’d lost a whip-lash, and so I 
stick to it, love is in the heart, and when I put my foot 
down, you can’t move me more than you can a stun fence, 
and when my mind's made up, I'm jest like the stately 


166 


THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 


pine, with its green tops waving to and fro in the breezes 
of heaven.” 

President — “Mr. Archibald Squirels will please to 
get up next.” 

Squirels — “Mr. President, I don’t purtendto be noth- 
in’ very great on a speech, but I can lick that feller’s 
argument jest as dry as a chip, and that jest as easy too, 
as a dog can lick his ear. He sticks to it that love’s in 
the heart, but that don’t make it so, cause I knowed a gal 
named Sal Saspan that stuck to it that love was in the 
feet, for she said jest as quick as she fell in love her feet 
begun to swell, and she had to put mustard-plasters on ’em 
to draw it out. So that jest kills his shot partridge all to 
smash ; and here’s another thing, when a feller’s ugly to 
his gal and won’t take her out a sleigh-ridin’, she tells him 
he an’t got no soul. There was a case of that kind ’curred 
last spring : it was Mr. Pippin’s daughter was courted by 
Jones, the barber’s clerk’s assistant, for upwards of three 
weeks, and because he wouldn’t put her in a sleigh and 
take her down to her aunt Peggy’s, on the Four Corners, 
she up and telled him he had no more soul than would lay 
on the p’int of a needle. Now, if he can box the compass 
and cap the needle, I’ll gin in ; but I see Mr. Goosberry is 
wantin’ to speak, so I’ll sit right down and gin him a 
chance, and I hope we shall decide this p’int in a way to 
satisfy all by-gone generations. But I considers, Mr. Pres- 
ident, that Mr. Snooks’ argument is 'just about as small as 
a half cent cut in two.” 

President — “ Now, gentlemen, you’ll be as silent as 
possible, and leave off eating peanuts, for Mr. Goosberry is 
going to speak.” 

Mr. Goosberry — “ Mr. President, when the far-reach- 
ing eye of science grasped the spectre of power and sat en- 
throned upon the pyramids of Rome — when the acuteness 
of the Herculean ages that are past was put to rest by the 
sombre shadows of the printing press — then it was that the 


THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 


167 


age of chivalry submerged itself from the dark expanse, 
and love was beating in the bosom of the Western world. 
It is perfectly clear to me, Mr. President, that love, like 
the bird of Jove when he towers into the cserulean atmo- 
sphere and pounces on his prey — that if this bird of Jove 
could look with his piercing eye into the hearts of men and 
women, he would see love perched on the apex of the hu- 
man bosom. 

“Hr. Squirels has told you of Pippin’s daughter; but, 
sir, he has got to prove that she was in love with Mr. Jones. 
I respect Mr. Jones, and have frequently been shaved at 
the shop of his master. But, sir, it is a problem which fu- 
turity must solve, whether a gentleman whose business it 
is to compound lather, shave his customers, and hang wigs 
on the outer walls of his master’s shop, was capable of in- 
spiring love in the heart of Pippin’s daughter. 

“ Sir, I have done; let me be correctly reported; noth- 
ing extenuate or set down aught in malice. I am confident 
what I have said will have a solemn effect upon the mind 
of the President, and will be like the torrents of a stagnant 
pool, that shakes the earth to its centre. For as that 
beautiful Poet has it in his Paradise Lost : 

“ 1 Cupidum abidum in heartum, 

Et solum obsquatulandum sunt.’ ” 

President — “Mr. Clutterclump will please to speak 
next.” 

Clutterclump — “ Mr. Pr-Pr-President, as I under- 
stand it, the qu-qu-question is this evening w-we -whether 
love is in the so-so-soul or in the heart, and aw-aw-awl 
I’ve got to say is, th-th-that we-we-whether love is in th- 
the soul or in the h-h-heart, it makes very little odds, for I 
was in 1-1-1-love once myself, and I felt it all over mo, from 
the cr-w-«crown of my foot to-to the soul of my head, and 
it was a-a-a-as strong as brandy and sw-sw-sweet as lass- 


168 


DEACON STOKES. 


es, and so I g-g-g-go in for b-b-b-both sides of the qu-qu- 
question.” 

President — 11 Well, now, I believe all the gentlemen 
has spoke on the two sides of the question, besides Mr. 
Clutterclump that spoke on both sides. In the first place 
Mr. Snooks remarked that now is the winter of our discon- 
tent ; now that’s very true, and when a man tells me what’s 
true once I can believe him agin’. But then Mr. Squirels 
don’t agree with him, and I can’t think of siding agin’ Mr. 
Squirels’, case he buys all his goods at my shop. Then 
comes Mr. Goosberry, and it was wonderful to hear him 
talk about the eagle, and the pyramids, and the Western 
world, as was discovered by Christofer Columbus. I’ve 
got a geography hum that’s got it all in ; as for Mr. Clut- 
terclump, he goes in for both sides, and says love is all 
over the body. Now, I stand here to decide something 
that’s been held in dispute ever since the Christian era, 
and that was long before the New Era was printed. Now 
gentlemen, this question is got to be decided one way or 
the other, so we’ll settle it by chuckin’ up a cent. Who’s 
got a red cent ?” 

The cent was tossed, which decided in favor of the 
heart, and so ended this learned debate. 


DEACON STOKES. 

THOMAS QUILP. 

There once lived one Asa Stokes, 

One of those men whom everything proyokes, 

A surly-tempered, evil-minded, bearish, 

Ill-natured kind of being ; 

He was the deacon of the parish, 

And had the overseeing 

Of some small matters, such as the ringing 

Of the church-bell, and took the lead in singing. 

Well, Deacon Stokes had gone to bed, one night, 

About eleven or before, 


DEACON STOKES. 


169 


'Twas in December, if my memory's right, in '24. 

'Twas cold enough to make a Russian shiver ; 

I think I never knew one 

Colder than this — in faith it was a blue one ! 

As by the almanac foretold, 'twas 
A real Lapland night. Oh dear ! how cold 'twas ! 

There was a chap about there named Ezekiel, 

A clever, good-for-nothing fellow, 

Who very often used to get quite mellow, 

Of whom the Deacon always used to speak ill, 

For he was fond of cracking jokes 
On Deacon Stokes, to show on 

What terms he stood among the women folks, and so on. 

It came to pass that on the night I speak of, 

Ezekiel left the tavern bar-room, where 

He spent the evening, for the sake of 

Drowning his care, by partaking 

Of the merry-making and enjoyment 

Of some good fellows there, whose sole employment 

Was, all kinds of weather, on every night, 

By early candle light, to get together 
Reading the papers, smoking pipes and chewing, 

Telling long yarns, and pouring down the ruin. 

Pretty well corned, and up to anything, 

Drunk as a lord, and happy as a king, 

Blue as a razor, from his midnight revel, 

Hor fearing muskets, women, or the devil, 

With a light heart — much lighter than a feather — 

With a light soul that spurned the freezing weather, 

And with a head ten times as light as either, 

And a purse, perhaps, as light as all together, 

On went Ezekiel, with a great expansion 

Of thought, until he brought 

Tip at a post before the Deacon's mansion. 

With one arm around the post, awhile he stood 
In thoughtful mood, with one eye turned 
Up toward the window where, with feeble glare, 

A candle burned ; 


170 


DEACON STOKES. 


Then with a serious face, and a grave, mysterious 
Shake of the head, Ezekiel said — 

(His right eye once more thrown upon the beacon 
That from the window shone,) “ I’ll start the Deacon !” 

Rap, rap, rap, rap, went Deacon Stokes’s knocker, 

But no one stirred ; rap, rap, it went again ; 

“ By George, it must be after ten, or 

They must take an early hour for turning in.” 

Rap, rap, rap, rap — “ My conscience, how they keep 
A fellow waiting — patience, how they sleep !” 

The Deacon then began to be alarmed, 

And in amazement threw up the casement; 

And with cap on head, of fiery red, 

Demanded what the cause was of the riot, 

That thus disturbed his quiet. 

“ Quite cool this evening, Deacon Stokes,” replied 
The voice below. “ Well, sir, what is the matter?” 

“ Quite chilly, Deacon ; how your teeth do chatter !” 
“You vagabond, a pretty time you have chosen 
To show your wit ; for I am almost frozen ; 

Be off, or I will put the lash on !” 

“ Why, bless you, Deacon, don’t be in a passion !” 

'Twas all in vain to speak again, 

For with the Deacon’s threat about the lash, 

Down went the sash. 

Rap, rap, rap, rap, the knocker went again, 

And neither of them was a very light rap ; 

Thump, thump, against the door went Ezekiel’s cane, 
And that once more brought Deacon Stokes’s night-cap. 

“ Yery cold weather, Deacon Stokes, to-night !” 

“ Begone, you vile, insolent dog, or I’ll 
Give you a warming that shall serve you right; 

You villain, it is time to end the hoax !” 

“Why, bless your soul and body, Deacon Stokes, 

Don’t be so cross when I’ve come here, in this severe 
Hight, which is cold enough to kill a horse, 


A TRIBUTE TO OUR HONORED DEAD. 


171 


For your advice upon a very difficult and nice 
Question. Now, bless you, do make baste and dress you.” 

“ Well, well, out with it, if it must be so ; 

Be quick about it, I’m very cold.” 

“Well, Deacon, I don’tdoubt it; 

In a few words the matter can be told. 

Deacon, the case is this : I want to know 
If this cold weather lasts all summer here — 

What time will green peas come along next year?” 


A TRIBUTE TO OUR HONORED DEAD. 

H. W« BEECHER. 

How bright are the honors which await those who with 
sacred fortitude and patriotic patience have endured all 
thiugs that they might save their native land from division 
and from the power of corruption. The honored dead! 
They that die for a good cause are redeemed from death. 
Their names are gathered and garnered. Their memory 
is precious. Each place grows proud for them who were 
bom there. There is to be, ere long, in every village, and 
in every neighborhood, a glowing pride in its martyred 
heroes. Tablets shall preserve their names. Pious love 
shall renew their inscriptions as time and the unfeeling 
elements efface them. And the national festivals shall 
give multitudes of precious names to the orator’s lips. 
Children shall grow up under more sacred inspirations, 
whose elder brothers, dying nobly for their country, left a 
name that honored and inspired all who bore it. Orphan 
children shall find thousands of fathers and mothers to 
love and help those whom dying heroes left as a legacy to 
the gratitude of the public. 

Oh, tell me not that they are dead — that generous host, 
that airy army of invisible heroes. They hover as a cloud 
of witnesses above this nation. Are they dead that yet 


172 


A TRIBUTE TO OUR HONORED DEAD. 


speak louder than we can speak, and a more universal 
language ? Are they dead that yet act ? Are they dead 
that yet move upon society, and inspire the people with 
nobler motives and more heroic patriotism ? 

Ye that mourn, let gladness mingle with your tears. It 
was your son : but now he is the nation’s. He made your 
household bright: now his example inspires a thousand 
households. Dear to his brothers and sisters, he is now 
brother to every generous youth in the land. Before, he 
was narrowed, appropriated, shut up to you. Now he is 
augmented, set free, and given to all. Before he was yours : 
he is ours. He has died from the family that he might live 
to the nation. Not one name shall be forgotten or neglected, 
and it shall by-and-by be confessed of our modern heroes, 
as it is of an ancient hero, that he did more for his country 
by his death than by his whole life. 

Neither are they less honored who shall bear through 
life the marks of wounds and sufferings. Neither epau- 
lette nor badge is so honorable as wounds received in a 
good cause. Many a man shall envy him who henceforth 
limps. So strange is the transforming power of patriot- 
ic ardor, that men shall almost covet disfigurement. 
Crowds will give way to hobbling cripples, and uncover in 
the presence of feebleness and helplessness. And buoyant 
children shall pause in their noisy games, and with loving 
reverence honor those whose hands can work no more, 
and whose feet are no longer able to march except upon 
that journey which brings good men to honor and immor- 
tality. Oh, mother of lost children ! sit not in darkness, 
nor sorrow whom a nation honors. Oh, mourners of the 
early dead, they shall live again, and live forever. Your 
sorrows are our gladness. The nation lives because you 
gave it men that loved it better than their own lives. And 
when a few more days shall have cleared the perils from 
around the nation’s brow, and she shall sit in unsullied 
garments of liberty, with justice upon her forehead, lov> 


THE DYING SOLDIER. 


173 


in her eyes, and truth upon her lips, she shall not forget 
those whose blood gave vital currents to her heart, and 
whose life, given to her, shall live with her life till time 
shall be no more. 

Every mountain and hill shall have its treasured name, 
every river shall keep some solemn title, every valley and 
every lake shall Cherish its honored register ; and till the 
mountains are worn out, and the rivers forget to flow, till 
the clouds are weary of replenishing springs, and the 
springs forget to gush, and the rills to sing, shall their 
names be kept fresh with reverent honors which are in- 
scribed upon the book of National Remembrance. 


THE DYING SOLDIER. 

RICHARD COK. 

“ Chaplain, I am dying, dying ; 

Cut a lock from off my hair, 

For my darling mother, chaplain, 

After I am dead, to wear; 

Mind you, ’tis for mother, chaplain, 

She whose early teachings now 
Soothe and comfort the poor soldier 
With the death-dew on his brow ! 

“ Kneel down, now, beside me, chaplain, 

And return my thanks to Him 
Who so good a mother gave me ; 

Oh, my eyes are growing dim ! 

Tell her, chaplain, should you see her, 

All at last with me was well ; 

Through the valley of the shadow 
I have gone, with Christ to dwell ! 

‘Do not weep, I pray you, chaplain; 

Yes, ah! weep for mother dear; 

I’m the only living son, sir, 

Of a widow’d mourner here ; 


174 THE YANKEE FIRESIDE. 

Mother ! I am going, going 

To the land where angels dwell ; 

I commend you unto Jesus: 

Mother darling — fare you well !” 

Downward from their thrones of beauty 
Look’d the stars upon his face ; 

Upward on the wings of duty 
Sped the angel of God’s grace, 

Bearing through the heavenly portal, 

To his blessed home above, 

The dead soldier’s soul immortal, 

To partake of Christ’s sweet love. 

Far away, iu humble cottage, 

Sits his mother, sad and lone ; 

And her eyes are red with weeping, 
Thinking of her absent son ; 

Suddenly Death’s pallid presence 
Cast a shadow o’er her brow ; 

Smiling a sweet smile of welcome, 

She is with her loved ones now ! 


THE YANKEE FIRESIDE. 

A CELEBRATED YANKEE RECITATION. 

TANKER HILL. 

I need not occupy your time by describing minutely 
what I mean by a Yankee fireside. It is sufficient to say 
that it consists of one of those old-fashioned fire-places 
where they use the wood without splitting or sawing, and 
throw on from a quarter to a half cord of wood at a time ; 
and where there is sufficient room under the jams for a 
dozen little children to sit down and warm their little feet 
before going to bed. 

It was at one of these firesides that I happened to drop 
in on a cold winter’s night, and witnessed the scene I am 
about to relate. 


THE YANKEE FIRESIDE. 


175 


The heads of the family were a Mr. and Mrs. Jones, 
who were honored that evening with a visit from a plain 
sort of a man, who told me, in course of conversation, that 
he teached school in winter, and hired out in haying time. 
What this man’s name was, I don’t exactly recollect. It 
might have been Smith; and for conveniency’s sake we 
will call his name John Smith. This Mr. Smith brought a 
newspaper with him, which was printed weekly — which 
Mr. Jones said, as it did not agree with his politics, was a 
very weakly consarn. 

Mr. Jones was seated on one side of an old pine table, 
and Mr. Smith on the other. Mrs. Jones sat knitting in 
one corner, and the children under the fire-place — some 
cracking nuts, others whittling sticks, &c. Mr. Jones, 
after perusing the paper for some time, observed to Mrs. 
Jones, “ My dear.” 

Mrs. Jones.— “W ell.” 

Mr. J. — “ It appears — ” 

Mrs. J. — “ Well, go on.” 

Mr. J. — “ I say it appears — ” 

Mrs. J. — “ Well, law souls ! I heard it ; go on.” 

Mr. J. — “ I say it appears from a paragraph — ” 

Mrs. J. — “Well, it don’t appear as if you are ever 
goin’ to make it appear.” 

Mr. J. — “ I say it appears from a paragraph in this pa- 
per — ” 

Mrs. J. — “ There ! there you go agin ! Why on airth, 
Jones, don’t you out with it ?” 

Mr. J. — “ I say it appears from a paragraph in this pa- 
per that — ” 

Mrs. J. — “ Well, I declare, Jones, you are enough to 
tire the patience of Job ! Why on airth don’t you out with 
it ?” 

Mr. J. — “Mrs. Jones, will you be quiet f If you get 
my dander up, I’ll raise Satan round this house, and you 
know it tue. Mr. Smith, you must excuse me ; I’m ’bliged 


176 


THE YANKEE FIRESIDE. 


to be a little peremptory to my wife ; for if you wasn’t here, 
she’d lick me like all natur’. Well, as I said, it appears 
from this paper that Seth Slope — you know’d Seth Slope, 
that used to be round here.” 

Mrs. J. — “Yes, well, go on; out with it.” 

Mr. J. — -“ You know he went on a whalin’ voyage.” 

Mrs. J.— “Yes, well?” 

Mr. J. — “ Well, it appears he was setting on the starn 
of the vessel, when the vessel give a lee lurch, and he was 
knocked overboard, and hain’t written to his friends since.” 

Mrs. J. — “ La, souls ! — you don’t say.” 

Before going farther, I will endeavor to give you some 
idea of Seth Slope. He was what they term down east, 
a poor shote ; his principal business was picking up chips, 
feeding the hogs, &c. I will represent him with this hat. 
( Puts on an old liat.) 

“ Mrs. Jones says I don’t know nothin’, and Mr. Jones 
says I don’t know nothin’ — ( laughs ) — and everybody says 
I don’t know nothin’ ; and I say I do know nothin. — 
{laughs.) Don’t I pick up all the chips to make a fire? — 
And — and don’t I feed the hogs, and the ducks, and the 
hens? — {laughs.) And don’t I go down to the store every 
mornin’ for a jug o’ rum ? And don’t I always take a good 
suck myself? I don’t know nothin’ — ha! — {laughs.) And 
don’t I go to church every Sunday, and don’t I go up 
stairs ? and when the folks gets asleep, don’t I throw corn 
at ’em, and wake ’em up? And don’t I see the fellers 
winkin’ at the gals, and the gals winkin’ at the fellers ? 
And don’t I go home and tell the old folks ? And when 
they come home, don’t the old folks kick up gooseberry 
with ’em? — {laughs.) And don’t I drive the hogs out of 
the garden to keep ’em from rootin’ up the taters ? And 
don’t I git asleep there sometimes, and don’t they root me 
up? — {laughs.) And didn’t I see a fly on Deacon Stokes’ 
red nose t’other day, and didn’t I say, ‘Take care, Deacon 


THE YANKEE FIRESIDE. 


1 77 

Stokes, you’ll bum his feet !’ I don’t know nothin’ eh ?” 
(laughs.) 

This Mrs. Jones I have spoken of was a very good sort 
of a woman ; and Mr. Jones was also considered a very 
good sort of a man — but was rather fond of the bottle. 
On one occasion I recollect particularly he had been to a 
muster, and came home so much intoxicated that he could 
hardly stand, and was obliged to lean against the chimney- 
place to prevent himself from falling. And Mrs. Jones 
says to him : — “ Now, Jones, ain’t you ashamed of your- 
self ? — Where on airth do you think you’d go to if you was 
to die in that sitewation ?” 

Jones — (very drunk) — “Well, I don’t know where I 
should go to but I shouldn’t go fur without I could go 
faster than I do now.” 

As soon as Mr. Jones had finished the paragraph in the 
paper, Mrs. Jones threw on her shawl and went over to 
her neighbors to communicate the news. I will endeavor 
to give a better idea of this Mrs. Jones by assuming a 
shawl and cap. — (Puts on shawl and cap.) 

“Well, Mrs. Smith, I ’spose you hain’t heard the news.” 
“ La, no ! What on airth is it ?” “ You recollect Seth Slope, 
that use to be about here?” “Yes, well?” “You know 
he went out on a whalin’ voyage?” “ Yes.” “ Well, it ap- 
pears from an advartisment in the paper that he was settin’ 
on the starn of the vessel, when the vessel give a lee lurch, 
and he was sent overboard and drowned, and hain’t writ- 
ten to his friends since. Oh, dear ! it’s dreadful to think 
on. Poor crittur ! he was sich a good-natured, clever soul. 
I recollect when he was about here, how he use to come in 
the house and set down, and get up and go out. Then 
he’d go down to the barn, and throw some hay to the crit- 
ters, and then he’d come in the house agin, and git up and 
go out, and go down to the store and git a jug of rum, and 
sometimes he’d take a leetle suck on’t himself. But lor 


178 


THE SUICIDAL CAT. 


souls ! I never cared nothin’ at all about that. Good, clev- 
er critter ! Then arter he’d come back with the rum, he’d 
sit down a little while, and git up and go out and pick up 
chips, and drive the hogs out of the garden ; and then he’d 
come in the house, and kick over the swill -pail, and set 
down and stick his feet over the mantel-piece, and whittle 
all over the harth, and spit tobacco-juice all over the car- 
pet, and blow his nose in the buckwheat cakes, and make 
himself so sociable ! And poor feller ! now he’s gone ! Oh, 
dear ! Well, Mrs. Smith, it goes to show that we are all 
accountable critturs ! ” 


THE SUICIDAL CAT. 

AN AFFECTING TALE. 

There lived a man named Ferguson, 

He lived on Market street, 

He had a speckled Thomas cat 
That couldn’t -well be beat; 

He’d catch more rats and mice, and sich, 
Than forty cats could eat. 

This cat would come into the room 
And climb upon a cheer, 

And there he’d set and lick hisself, 

And purr so awful queer, 

That Ferguson would yell at him — 

But still he purred severe. 

And then he’d climb the moon-lit fence, 
And loaf around and yowl, 

And spit and claw another cat 
Alongside of the jowl ; 

And then they both would shake their tails 
And jump around and howl. 

Oh, this here cat of Ferguson’s 
Was fearful then to see; 


THE SUICIDAL CAT. 


179 


He'd yell precisely like he was 
In awful agony ; 

You'd think a first-class stomach-ache 
Had struck some small baby. 

And all the mothers in the street, 

‘ Waked by the horrid din. 

Would rise right up and search their babes 
To find some worrying pm ; 

And still this viperous cat would keep 
A hollerin' like sin. 

And as for Mr. Ferguson, 

'Twas -more than he could bear, 

And so he hurled his boot-jack out 
Right through the midnight air ; 

But this vociferous Thomas cat, 

Not one cent did he care. 

For still he yowled and kept his fur 
A standin’ up on end, 

And his old spine a doublin' up 
As far as it would bend, 

As if his hopes of happiness 
Did on his lungs depend. 

But while a curvin' of his spine, 

And waitin' to attack 

A cat upon the other fence, 

There come an awful crack ; 

And this here speckled Thomas cat 
Was busted in the back. 

When Ferguson came home next day, 
There lay his old feline, 

And not a life was left in him, 

Although he had had nine. 

“ All this here comes," said Ferguson, 

“ Of curvin' of his spine." 

Now all you men whose tender hearts 
This painful tale does rack, 


J 80 


THE SON’S WISH. 


J ust take this moral to yourselves, 
All of you, white and black ; 
Don’t ever go, like this here cat, 
To gettin’ up your back. 


THE SON’S WISH. 

JlNONYMOUB. 

A wealthy old father had three grown-up sons, 

Two of them steady, the youngest was wild ; 

He drank and he gamed, and was thought but a dunce, 
A care and a cost to his sire from a child. 

The father was dying, the sons were called, 

And the old man addressed them one after the other, 

Saying, “ Tom, you are the oldest, and always have been 
A dutiful son — so has Edward, your brother. 

“But as for you, Richard — however, no more, 

I am worse at the sight of you, there as you stand ; 

Tou will find by my will, Tom, that I’ve given o’er 
To you, as my heir, all my houses and land. 

“ To my second son, Edward, my money I’ve given, 

My furniture, carriages, horses, and pelf.” 

“Alas, my dear father,” they both cried, “by heaven, 
We hope you may live to enjoy it yourself.” 

Then turning to Richard, the old father said, 

In a voice from his sufferings beginning to falter : 

“ Tou are not forgotten, you’ll find, when I’m dead, 

I’ve left you a shilling to purchase a halter. 

“Tou was born for my sorrow, as well as your mother’s ; 
The price of a rope is the whole of your wealth.” 

“Alas, sir!” cried Dick, in the tone of his brothers,” 

“ God grant you may live to enjoy it yourself” 


DICK & FITZGERALD, 

PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. 


% # The Publishers, Npon receipt of the price, will send any of the follow 
kooks by mail, postage free, to any part of the United States. In ordering 
books, the full name, post office, county and State should be plainly written 


Wilson’s Book of Recitations and Dialogues. With In- 
structions in Elocution and Declamation. Containing a choice selection of 
Poetical and Prose Recitations and Original Colloquies. Designed as a 
Reading Book for Classes, and as an Assistant to Teachers and Students in 

? reparing Exhibitions. By Floyd B. Wilson, Professor of Elocution. 

'his collection has been prepared with a special view to the development of 
the two cardinal principles of true Elocution — Voice and Action, and include 
a large proportion of Recitations and Dialogues, which appear for the first 
time in this form. The Colloquies are entirely original. 


Paper covers. Price 30 cts 

Bound in boards, cloth back. • 50 cts 


Frost’s Dialogues for Young Folks. A collection of Orig- 
inal Moral and Humorous Dialogues. Adapted to the use of School and 
Church Exhibitions, Family Gatherings, and Juvenile Celebrations on all 
Occasions. By S. A. Frost, author of “Frost’s Original Letter Writer, ’ - 
etc. This collection of Dialogues is just what has long been wanted— & 
eontains a variety that will suit every taste ; some of the subjects are hu- 
morous, some satirical, hitting at the follies of vice and fashion, while others 
are pathetic, and all are entertaining. A few of the Dialogues are long 
enough to form a sort of little drama that will interest more advanced 
scholars, while short and easy ones abound for the use of quite young chil- 
dren. Most of the Dialogues introduce two or three characters only, but 
some require a greater number. The subjects chosen will, it is hoped, be 
found useful in conveying sound moral instruction as well as giving the op- 
portunity to display memory and vivacity in rendering them. 


Papei covers. Price 30 ct& 

Bound in boards, cloth back, side in colors 50 cts. 


The Parlor Stage. A Collection of Drawing-Room Pro- 
verbs, Charades and Tableaux Vivants. By Miss S. A. Frost. The authoress 
of this attractive volume has performed her task with skill, talent, and we 
might say, with genius; for the Acting Charades and Proverbs are really 
minor dramas of a high order of merit There are twenty -four of them, and 
fourteen Tableaux , all of which are excellent. The characters are admirably 
drawn, well contrasted, and the plots and dialogues much better than this* 
of many popular pieces performed at the public theatres. Any parlor with, 
folding or sliding doors is suitable for their repi-esentation (or, if there, ax ■? 
no sliding or lolding doors, a temporary curtain will answer). The drersce 
are all those of modern society, and the scenery and properties can be easily 
provided from the resources of almost any family residence in town or couth 
try. The book is elegantly got up, and we commend it heartily to young 
gentlemen and l?*dies who wish to beguile the long winter evenings with :* 
species of amusement at once interesting, instructive and amusing. 

SftH oages, small fivo, cloth, gilt side and back, beveled edges Price. .$1 50 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed 


Howard’s Book of Conundrums and Riddles. Containing 

over 1.400 "Witty Conundrums, Queer Riddles, Perplexing Puzzles. Ingen. 

' ions Enigmas, Clever Charades, Curious Catches, and Amusing be.ls, ongi- 
inal and newly dressed. This splendid collection of curious paradoxes 
will afford the material for a never-ending least of fun and amusement 
Any person, with the assistance of this book, may take the lead in entei 
taining a company and keeping them in roars of laughter for hours i . 

ether. It is an invaluable companion for a Pic-nic, or Summer' Excui C { 
of any kind, and is just the thing to make a fireside circle merry on a !< 
Winter’s evening. There is not a poorriddle in the book, the majority 1 < ii.g 

fresh and of the highest order. Paper cover, price 30 cfs" 

’ Bound in boards, cloth back, juice gO clS- 


frost’s Book of Tableaux and Shadow Pantomimes. 

Containing a choice collection of Tabl eaux or Living Pictures, embracing 
Moving Tableaux, Mother Goose Tableaux, Fairy Tale Tableaux, Charade 
and Proverb Tableaux ; together with directions for arranging the stage 
costuming the characters, and forming appropriate groups. By Miss 8. 
Annie Frost. To which is added a number of Shadow Acts and Panto- 
mimes, with complete stage instructions. 180 pages, paper cover. . .30 cts- 
Bound m boards, cloth back 50 ct& 


Laughing Gas, An Encyclopaedia of Wit, Wisdom, and 

Wind. By Sant Slick, Jr. Comically illustrated with 100 original an£ 
laughable Engravings, and nearly 500 side-extending Jokes, and othei 
things to get fat ou ; and the best thieg v; it is, that everything about thr 
book is new and lresh— all new — new "r signs, new stories, new type— n« 
comic almanac stuff. Price 25 Cta. 


.hie Egyptian Dream Book and Fortune-Teller. Con- 
taining an Alphabetical List of Dreams, an i numerous methods of Telling 
Fortunes, including the celebrated Oraculum of Najxdeon Bonaparte. Il- 
lustrated with explanatory diagrams. lGmo, boards, cloth back. 

Price 40 Cts 


Ned Turner’s Black Jokes. A collection of Funny Stories. 

Jokes, and Conundrums, interspersed with "Witty Sayings an 1 Huraorouj 
Dialogues. As given by Ned Turner, the Celebrated Ethiopian Delineator 
and Equestrian Clown. Price 10 cts. 


Book of 1,000 Tales and Amusing Adventures. Con- 
taining over 800 Engravings, and 450 pages. This is a magnificent book, 
and is crammed full of narratives and adventures. Price.. . $1 50 

£he Game of Whist. Rules, Directions, and Maxims to 

be observed in playing it. Containing, also, Primary Rules for Beginners, 
Explanations and Directions for Old Players, and the Laws of the Game. 
Compiled from Hoyle and Matthews. Price 12 cts. 


.*3,000 Wonderful Things. Comprisino; the Marvellous 

,nd Rare, Odd, Curious, Quaint, Eccentric, and Extraordinary in all Ag«*i 
t-id Nations, in Art, Nature, and Science, including many Wonders of the 
World, enriched with hundreds of authentic illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 
gilt side and back. Price *1 50 

Sad Turner’s Clown Joke Book, oomaming me best joke» 

oini Gems of Wit, composed and delivered by the favorite Equestrian Clown 
and Ethiopian Comedian, Ned Turner. lSrno. Price 10 CtS. 


6am Slick in Search of a Wife. i2mo. 

Paper cover. Price 75 Ct8. 

hhno. doth JJl 25 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices Annexed, 


Cards of Courtship. Arranged with such apt Conversations 

that you will be enabled to ask the momentous question categorically, in 
such a delicate manner that the girl will not suspect what you are at. 
These cards may be used, either by two persons, or they will make lots of 
fun for an evening party of young people. There are fourteen question 
eards, and twenty-eight answers — forty-two in all. Each answer will re- 
spond differently to every one of the questions. The person holding the 
questions either selects or draws one out, as he pleases. The answer is giv- 
en by shuffling the answer cards, and then throwing one of them down pro- 
miscuously. It may be a warm and loving, a non-committal, a genial as- 
senting, a cold denying, an evasive, or even a coquettishlv uncertain answer 
— for they are all there, besides others which it is difficult to classify. When 
used in a party, the question is read aloud by the lady receiving it — she 
shuffles and hands out an answer — and that also must be read aloud by 
the gentleman receiving it. The fun thus caused is intense. Put up in 
handsome card cases, oh which are printed directions. Price 30 CtS- 

Love-Making Made Easy. By Love-Letter Cards. We 

have just printed a new and novel Set of Cards which will delight the hearts 
of young people susceptible of the tender passion. These consist of forty- 
two cards — twenty-one pink, or yellow, and the same number of white ones. 
Each white card has printed on it a love-letter to a lady, and each of the 
colored ones has her reply. The letters and replies are all different, and no 
formality of style, or namby-pambyism, will be found in any of them. AH 
are written in a modern familiar tone, with plain and candid declarations of 
love — warmly or moderately expressed, or delicately hinted at, as the case 
may be, and some of them boldly popping the momentous question to the 
lair recipient. The answer cards are equally terse, candid and to the point. 

N. B. — These cards may be also successf ully used for models (either wholly 
or in part) in writing to lovers or sweethearts. Put up in handsome cases 
on which are printed directions. Price 30 CtS* 

Fortune-Tell'ng Cards. Solutions of uncertain and intri- 
cate questions .dative to love, hick, lotteries, matrimony, business matters, 
journe'i s, and future events generally, are here given in a direct, piquant, and 
satisfactory manner. They have been carefully worked out on genuine as- 
trological and geometrical principles, by planetarium, and in figures, trian- 
gles and curves, and are so arranged that each answer will respond to every 
one of the questions which may be put. There are fourteen printed questions 
and twenty-eight answer cards. If none of the questions should suit your 
case, you can ask any other you please, and the proper answer will come. 
These cards will also afford a fund of amusement in a party of young people. 
Each package is enclosed in a card-case, on which are printed directions for 
using the cards. Price 30 CtS- 

Leap-Year Cards, To enable any lady to pop the question 

to the chosen one of her heart. This set of cards is intended more to make fun 
among young people than for any practical utility. There are twenty-one 
pink or yellow cards, and the same number of white ones — forty -two in alL 
On each of the colored cards is a printed letter from a lady to a gentleman, 
wherein the fair one declares her love, or pops the question in a humorous- 
ly sentimental manner. The letters all differ in style, and in the mode of 
attack. The twenty-one answers, on white cards, is where the fun comes in. 
Put up in handsome cases, on which are printed directions, 30 CtS 

Sonillard's Book of Practical Receipts. For the use of 

Families. Druggists, Perfumers, Confectioners, Patent Medicine Factors, 
and Dealers in Soans and Fancy Articles for the Toilet. Compiled with 
great care from receipts now in use by the most popular houses in France 
and the United States. By F. A. Souillard, practical chemist. 

Paper cover. Price......... 25 CfcS- 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Book of Household Pets. Containing valuable instructions 

about the Diseases, Breeding, Training and Management of the Canary, 
Mocking Bird, Brown Thrush, or Thrasher, and other birds, and the rearing 
and management of all kinds of Pigeons and Fancy Poultry, Rabbits, Squir- 
rels, Guinea Pig®, White Mice, and Dogs ; together with a Comprehensive 
Treatise on the Principle and Management of the Salt and F resh W ater 
Aquarium. Illustrated with 123 fine wood-cuts. 


Bound in boards. Price 50 cts* 

Bound in cloth, gilt side 75 c tg. 


Athletic Sports for Boys. A Repository of Graceful Re- 
creations for Youth, containing clear and complete instructions in Gymnas- 
tics, Limb Exercises. Jumping, Pole Leaping, Dumb Bells, Indian' Clubs, 
Parallel Cars, tho Horizontal Bar, the Trapeze, the Suspended Ropes, Skat- 
ing, Swimming, Rowing, Sailing, Horsemanship, Riding, Driving, Angling, 
Fencing and Broadsword. The whole splendidly illustrated with 194 fine 
wood-cuts and diagrams. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back. Price 75 c tg. 

Bound in cloth, gilt side .gl Q0 

The Play-Ground ; or, Out-Door Gamez for Boys. A Book of 

Healthy Recreations for Youth, containing over a hundred Amusements, 
including Games of Activity and Speed ; Games with Toys, Marbles, Tops, 
Hoops, Kites, Archery, Balls ; with Cricket, Croquet and Base-Ball. Illus- 


trated with 124 wood-cuts. Bound in boards. Price 50 cts- 

Bound in cloth, gilt side 75 ct& 


The above three books are abridged from the “ American Boy’s Book of 
Sports and Games.” 


The Young 1 Reporter ; or, IIoio to Write tihort-IIand. A com- 
plete Phonographic Teacher, intended to afford thorough instruction to 
those who have not the assistance of an Oral Teacher. By the aid of this 
work, any person ot the most ordinary intelligence may learn to write Sbort- 
Hand, and Report Speeches and Sermons in a short time. Bound in boards, 
with cloth back. Price 50 cts. 


Barton’s Comic Recitations and Humorous Dialogues. 

Containing a variety of Comic Recitations in Prose and Poetry, Amusing 
Dialogues, Burlesque Scenes, Eccentric Orations and Stump Speeches, Hu- 
morous Interludes and Laughable Farces. Designed for School Commence- 
ments and Amatevr Theatricals. Edited by Jf.kome Barton. This is tha 
best collection of Humorous pieces, especially adapted to the parlor stage, 

that has ever been published. Illuminated paper cover. Price 30 cts- 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 


The Secret Out; or, One Thousand Tricks with Cards, and 

other Recreations. Illustrated with over Three Hundred Engravings. A 
book which explains all the Tricks and Deceptions with Playing Cards ever 
known, and gives, besides, a great many new ones — the whole being de- 
, ecribed so carefully, with engravings to illustrate them, that anybody can 
1 easily learn how to perform them. This work also contains 240 of the best 
Tricks in Legerdemain, in addition to the card tricks. 12mo., 400 pages 
bound in cloth, with gilt side and back. Price <gl 5 Q 

The American Card Player. Containing clear and compre- 
hensive directions for playing the games of Euchre, Whist, Bezique, All Fours 
French Fours. Cribbage, Cassino, Straight and Draw Poker, Whisky Poker 
and Commercial Pitch, together with all the laws of those Games. 150 puses. 


bound in boards, with cloth back. Price 50 cts. 

Bound, in clatb gilt side 75 (.jj 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Hillgrove’u Ball-room Guide and Complete Dancing-mas- 
ter, Containing a plain treatise on Etiquette and Deportment at Bailc 
and Parties, with valuable hints on Dress and the Toilet, together with iuli 
explanations ot the Rudiments, Terms, Figures and Steps used in Dancing, 
including clear and precise instructions how to dam., all kinds of Quad- 
rilles, Waltzes, Poikas, Redowas, Reels, Round, Flam and Fancy Dances, 
so that any person may learn them without the aid of a teacher ; to which 
is added, easy directions for calling out the Figures of every dance, and the 
amount of Music required for each. The whole illustrated with 176 do- 
senptive engravings and diagrams. By Thomas Hillgrove, Professor of 
Dancing. 

Bound in cloth, with gilt side and back. Price Oi Ofl 

Bound in boards, cloth back .*75 eta. 


Wright’s Book of 3,000 American Receipts; or, Light- 

Ilouse of Valuable Information. Containing over 3,000 Receipts in all the 
Useful and Domestic Arts — including Cooking, Confectionery, Distilling, 
Perfumery, Chemicals, Varnishes, Dyeing, Agriculture, etc. Embracing 
valuable secrets that cannot be obtained from any other source. No exer- 
tion or expense has been spared to make this work as comprehensive and 
accurate as possible. Many Receipts will be found in it that have never 
before appeared in print in this country. Some idea may be iormed of its 
value in the latter respect, when it is stated that the compiler has been for 
many years engaged in collecting rare and valuable Receipts from numer- 
ous languages besides the English. This is by far the most valuable Ameri- 
can Receipt Book that has ever been published. 

12mo., cloth, 359 pages. Price 50 


The Modern Pocket Hoyle. Containing all the Games of 

Skill and Chance, as played in this country at the present time ; being an 
“ authority on all disputed points.” By “ Trumps.” This valuable manual 
is all original, or thoroughly revised, from the best and latest authorities, 
and includes the law's and complete directions for playing one hundred and 
eleven different games, comprising Card games, Chess, Checkers, Dominoe*, 
Backgammon, Dice, Billiards, and all the Field Games. 388 pages. 

Paper covers. Price 50 cts 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 

Bound in cloth, gilt side and hack $1 25 


Richardson’s Monitor of Free-Masonry. A Complete 

Guide to the various Ceremonies and Routine in Free-Mason's Lodges, 
Chapters, Encampments, Hierarchies, etc., in all the Degrees, whether 
Modern, Ancient, Ineffable, Philosophical or Historical. Containing, also, 
the Signs, Tokens, Grips, Pass- words, Decorations, Drapery, Dress, Regalia 
and Jewels, in each Degree. Profusely illustrated with Explanatory En- 
gravings, Plans of the Interior of Lodges, etc. By Jabez Richardson, 


A. M. A book of 185 pages. 

Bound in paper covers. Price 75 cts. 

Bound and gilt SI 25 


Rarcy and Knowlson’s Complete Horse-tamer and Far- 
rier. A New and Improved Edition, containing Mr. Rarey’s whole Secret 
ot Subduing and Breaking Vicious Horses, together with his Improved 
Plan of Managing Young Colts, and breaking them to the Saddle, th# 
Harness and the Sulky, with Rules lor selecting a good Horse, for Feeding 
Horses, etc. Also, The Complete Farrier; or, Horse Doctor; a Guide 
for the Treatment of Horses in all Diseases to which that noble animal ia 
liable, being the result ot fifty years’ extensile practice of the author, 
John C. Knowlson, during his life an English Farrier of high popularity, 
containing the latest discoveries in the Cure of Spavin. Illustiated with 
descriptive Emrravings. 

Bound in hoards, cloth back. Price -5Q ctfr 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Spencer’s Book of Comic Speeches and Humorous Recita- 
tions- A. collection of Comic Speeches and Dialogues, Humorous Prose and 
Poetical Recitations, Laughable Dramatic Scenes and Burlesques, and Ec- 
centric Characteristic Soliloquies and Stories. Suitable for School Exliibi- 
tions and Evening Entertainments. Edited by Albert J. Spencer. This 
is the best book of Comic Recitations that has ever been published, and 
commands a large sale on account of its real merit. It is crammed full of 
Comic Poetry, Laughable Lectures, Irish and Dutch Stories, Yankee Yarns, 
'Negro Burlesque-. Short Dramatic Scenes, Humorous Dialogues, and all 
kinds of Funny Speeches. 

Paper covers. Price 20 cts 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cu 


Marache’s Manual Of Chess- Containing a description of 

the Board and the Pieces, Chess Notation, Technical Terms with diagrams 
illustrating them, Relative Value of the Pieces, Laws of the Game, General 
Observations on the Pieces, Preliminary Games for Beginners, Fifty Open- 
ings of Games, giving all the latest discoveries of Modern Masters, with 
best games and copious notes. Twenty Endings of Games, showing easiest 
ways of effecting Checkmate. Thirty-six ingenious Diagram Problems, 
and Sixteen curious Chess Stratagems. To which is added a Treatise on 
the Games of Backgammon, Russian Backgammon and Dominoes, the 
whole being one of the best Books for Beginners ever published. By N. 
Marache, Chess Editor of “ Wilkes’ Spirit of the Times.” 


Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 cts. 

Cloth, gilt side 75 cts. 


Martine’s Sensible Letter Writer ; Being a comprehensive 

and complete Guide and Assistant for those who desire to carry on Episto- 
lary Correspondence ; Containing a large collection of model letters, on the 
simplest matters of life, adapted to all ages and conditions, 


EMBRACING, 


Friendship ant 


Letters of Courtesy , 

A ffection ; 

Letters of Condolence and Sympathy ; 

A Choice Collection of Love Letters , for 
Every Situation in a Courtship ; 

Notes of Ceremony , Familiar Invita- 
tions, etc., together with Notes of Ac- 
ceptance and Regret. 


Business Letters ; 

Applications for Employment, with 
Letters of Recommendation, and An- 
swers to Advertisements : 

Letters between Parents and Children ; 

Letters of Friendly Counsel and Re- 
monstrance ; 

Letters soliciting Advice, Assistance 
and Friendly Favors ; 

The whole containing 300 Sensible Letters and Notes. This is an invalua- 
ble book for those persons who have not had sufficient practice to enable 
them to write letters without great effort. It contains such a variety of 
letters, that models may be found to suit every subject. Bound m boards, 

with illuminated cover and cloth back, 207 pages. Price 50 cts. 

Bound in cloth 75 cts! 


'£h9 Perfect Gentleman. A book of Etiquette and Elo- 
quence. Containing Information and Instruction for those who desire to 
become brilliant or conspicuous in General Society, or at Parties, Dinners, 
or Popular Gatherings, etc. It gives directions how to use wine at table, 
with Rules lor judging the quality thereof. Rules for Carving, and a com- 
plete Etiquette of the Dinner Table, including Dinner Speeches, Toasts 
and Sentiments, Wit and Conversation at Table, etc. It has also an 
American Code of Etiquette and Politeness for all occasions. Model 
Speeches, with Directions how to deliver them. Duties of the Chairman 
at Public Meetings. Forms of Preambles and Resolutions, etc. It is a 
handsomely bound and gilt volume of 335 pages. 

Price $1 50 


Popular Boc-» 3 sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Jhmcan's Masonic Ritual and Monitor; or, Guide to the 

Three Symbolic Degrees of the Ancient York Rite, Entered Apprentice, Fellow 
Craft, and Master Mason. And to the Degrees of Mark Master, Past Mas* 
ter, Most Excellent Master, and the Royal Arch. By Mal.com C. Duncan. 
Explained and Inter preted by copious Notes and numerous Engravings, 
It is not so much the design of the author to gratify the curiosity of the 
■uninitiated, as to furnish a Guide to the Younger Members of the Order, 
by means of which their progress from (vade to grade may be facilitated. 
It. is a well-known fact that comparatively few; of the fraternity are “ Bright 
Masons,” but with the aid ot this invaluable Masonic Companion any Ma- 
son can, in a short time, become qualified to take the Chair as Master of a 
Lodge. Nothing is omitted in it that may tend to impart a full under- 
standing of the principles of Masonry. This is a valuable book for th« 
Fraternity, containing, as it does, the Modern “ Work” of the order. No 
Mason should be without it. It is entirely different from any other Ma- 


sonic book heretofore published. 

Bound in cloth. Price <g2 50 

Leather tucks (Pocket-book Style), with gilt edges. Price 3 00 


* Trumps’ ” American Hoyle ; or, Gentleman's Hand-hook of 

Games. Containing clear and complete descriptions of all the Games played 
in the United States, with the American Rules for playing them ; including 
Whist, Euchre, Bezique, Cribbage, All-Fours, Loo, Poker, Brag, Piquet, 
Ecarte, Boston, Cassino, Chess, Checkers, Backgammon, Dominoes, Bil- 
liards, and a h undred other Games. This work is designed to be an Ameri- 
can authority in all games of skill and chance, and will settle any disputed 
poin . It has been prepared with great care by the editor, with the assist- 
ance of a number of gentlemen players of skill and ability, and is not a 
re-hash of English Games, but a live American book, expressly prepared 
for American readers. The American Hoyle contains 525 pages, is printed 
on fine white paper, bound in cloth, with beveled boards, and is profusely 
illustrated with engravings explaining the different Games. 

Price &2 00 

Brisbane’s Golden Ready Reckoner. Calculated in Dollars 

and Cents, being a useful Assistant to Traders in buying and selling vari- 
ous commodities, either w holesale or retail, showing at once the amount or 
value of any number of articles, or quantity of goods, or any merchandise, 
either by the gallon, quart, pint, ounce, pound, quarter, hundred, yard, 
loot, inch, bushel, etc., in an easy and plain manner. To which are added 
Interest Tables, calculated in dollars and cents, for days and for months, at 
six per cent, and at seven per cent, per annum, alternately ; and a great 
number of other Tables and Rules for calculation never before in print. 
I y William D. Brisbane, A. M., Accountant, Book-keeper, etc. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 35 ct*. 

!?he Indian Club Exercise. ‘With, explanatory figures and 

positions, photographed from life ; also, general remarks on Physical Cul- 
ture. Illustrated with portraitures of celebrated athletes, exhibiting great 
muscular development from the Club Exercise, engraved from photographs, 
expressly for this work. By Sim. D. Kehoe. 

Quarto, cloth. Price $2 50 

.Live and Learn. A Guide for all who wish to Speak and 

Write correctly. Containing examples of one thousand mistakes of daily 
occurrence, in speaking, waiting and pronunciation. 

216 pages, cloth, small octavo. Price 75 cts- 

Mrs. Crowen’s American Lady’s Cookery Book. Contain- 
ing over 1,200 original receipts forpreparing and cooking all kinds of dishes. 
The most popular Cook Book ever published. 

12mo., cloth, 474 pages £2 041 


Popular Books sent Tree of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Martine’s Letter- writer and Etiquette Combined. For the 

use of Ladies and Gentlemen. 12mo., cloth, gilt side and back. A great 
many books have been printed on the subject of etiquette and correct be- 
havior in society, but none of them are sufficiently comprehensive and 
matter-of-fact enough to suit the class of people who may be called new 
beginners in fashionable life. This book is entirely different from others in 
that respect. It explains in a plain, common-sense way, precisely how to 
conduct yourself in every position in society. This book also contains over 
300 sensible letters and notes suitable to every occasion in life, and is prob- 
ably the best treatise on Letter- writing that lias ever been printed. It 
gives easily understood directions, that are brief and to the point. It has 
some excellent mode) letters of friendship and business, and its model Love 
Letters are unequaled. If any lady or gentleman desires to know how to 
begin a love correspondence, this is just the book they w r ant. This volume 
contains the same matter as Martine’s Hand-book of Etiquette ” and 
“ Martine’s Sensible Let ter- writer,” and, in fact, combines those two books 
bound together in one substantial volume of 373 pages SI 50 

Horse-taming by a New Method. As Practised by J. S. 

Rarey. A New and Improved Edition, containing Mr. Rarey’s whole Se- 
cret of Subduing and Breaking Vicious Horses, together with his improved 
Plan of Managing Young Colts, and Breaking them to the Saddle, to 
Harness and the Sulky, with ten Engravings illustrating the process. 
Every person who keeps a horse should buy this book. It costs but a trifle, 
and you will positively find it an excellent guide in the management of that 
noble animal. This is a very handsome book of 64 pages. 

Price 12 cts. 

Knowlson’s Farrier, and Complete Horse Doctor. We have 

printed a new and revised edition of this celebrated book, which contains 
Knowlson’s famous Recipe for the Cure of Spavin, and other new matter. 
It is positively the best book of the kind ever written. We sell it cheap, 
because of the immense demand for it. The farmers and horse keepers like 
it because it gives them plain, common-sense directions how to manage 
their horses. We sell our new edition (64 pages, 18mo) cheap. 

■Price 12 Cts. 

The Art of Conversation. With remarks on Fashion and 

Address. By Mrs. Mabf.rly. This is the best book on the subject ever 
published. It contains nothing that is verbose or difficult to understand, 
but all the instructions and rules for conversation are given in a plain and 
common-sense manner, so that any one, however dull, can easily compre- 
hend them. 64 pages octavo, large. Price 25 cts. 

Charley White's Joke Book. Being a perfect Casket of 

Fun, the first and only work of the kind ever published. Containing a full 
expose of all the most laughable Jokes, Witticisms, etc., as told by the 
celebrated Ethiopian Comedian, Charles White. 94 pages. 

Price 12 cts- 

Black Wit and Darkey Conversations. By Charles 

White. Containing a large collection of laughable Anecdotes, Jokes, 
Stories, Witticisms, and Darkey Conversations. 

Price 12 cts. 

The Nightingale Songster; or , Li tries of Love. Containing 

1^4 Choice Sentimental Sengs. Bound in boards, with cloth back, and 

illustrated cover. Price 50 cts. 

The Emerald ; w, Book of Lrish Melodus. Containing n 

Choice Collection of Irish, Comic, and Sentimental Songs. 

Bound in boards, cloth back, and illustrated cover. Price - 50 cts. 


Popular Books jont Tree of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Dr. V alentinc’s Comic Lectures ; or , Morsels of Mirth for th a 

Melancholy. A budget of Wit and Humor, and a certain cure for the blues 
and all other serious complaints. Comprising Comic Lectures on Heads, 
Faces, Noses, Mouths, Animal Magnetism, etc., with Specimens of Elo- 
quence, Transactions of Learned Societies, Delineations of Eccentric Char- 
acters, Comic Songs, etc. By Dr. W. Valentine, the favorite Delineatol 
of Eccentric Characters. Illustrated with twelve portraits of Dr. V alen- 
tine, in his most celebrated characters. 


12mo'., cloth, gilt. Price $1 29 

Ornamental paper cover. Price 75 <>tg. 


The Poet’s Companion; A Dictionary of all Allowable Rhymes 

in the English Language. This is a book to aid aspiring genius in the Com- 
position of Rhymes, and in Poetical Effusions generally. It gives the Per- 
fect, the Imperfect, and the Allowable Rhymes, and will enable you to 
ascertain, to a certainty, whether any words can be mated. It is invaluable 
to any ®ne who desires to court the muses, and is used by some of the best 
writers in the country. Price 25 cts. 

Ladies’ Guide to Crochet. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. 

Copiously illustrated with original and very choice designs in Crochet, etc., 
printed in colors, separate from the letter-press, on tinted paper. Also 
with numerous wood-cuts, printed with the letter-press, explanatory of 
terms, etc. Bound in extra cloth, gilt. This is by far the best work on 
the subject of Crochet ever published. 

Price SI 25 

Chips from Uncle Sam’s Jack Knife. Illustrated with 

over one hundred Comical Engravings, and comprising a collection of over 
five hundred Laughable Stones, Funny Adventures, Comic Poetry. Queer 
Conundrums, Terrific Puns, Witty Sayings, Sublime Jokes, and Sentimen- 
tal Sentences. The whole being a most perfect portfolio for those who love 
to laugh. Large octavo. Price 25 Cts. 

Fox’s Ethiopian Comicalities. Containing Strange Say- 
ings, Eccentric Doings, Burlesque Speeches, Laughable Drolleries, Funny 
Stories, interspersed with Refined Wit, Broad Humor, and Cutting Sar- 
casm, copied verbatim, as recited by the celebrated Ethiopian Comedian. 
With several Comic Illustrations. Price 12 cts. 

Mind Yonr Stops. Punctuation made plain, and Compo- 
sition simplified for Readers, Writers and Talkers. This little book is 
worth ten times the price asked for it, and will teach accurately in every- 
thing, from the diction of a friendly letter to the composition of a learned 
treatise. Price 12 cts. 

Hard Words Made Easy. Buies for Pronunciation and 

Accent ; with instructions how to pronounce French, Italian, German, 
Danish, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian, and other foreign names. A capital 
work. Price 12 Cts, 

Bddal Etiquette; A Sensible Guide to the Etiquette and 

Observances of the Marriage Ceremonies ; containing complete directions 
for Bridal Receptions, and the necessary rules for bridesmaids, groomsmen, 
sending cards, etc. Price 12 cts* 

The Universal Book of Songs. Comprising a choice col- 
lection of 400 new Sentimental, Scotch, Irish, Ethiopian and Comic Songs. 
x 2 mo., cloth, gilt. Price SI 2 5 

How to be Healthy ; Being a Complete Guide to Long 

Life. By a Retired Physician. Price 12 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Kow Gamblers Win; or , The Secrets of Advantage Playing 

Exposed. Being a complete and scientific expose of the manner of playing 
all the various advantages in the Games of Poker, All- Fours, Euchre, 
Vingt-un, Whist, Gnbbage, etc., as practised by professional gamblers on 
the uninitiated, together with a brief analysis of legitimate play. By a 
Retired Professional. This little work is designed as a warning to the un- 
wary, and a caution to self-confident card players. A careful perusal of 
this book will sufficiently post the reader in relation to all the trickery and 
machinery of “ advantage playing,” and show the folly of attempting to 
compete, by fair means, with the professional card-sharper. 

_Gmo,, paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back... 50 cts- 


How to Mix Drinks. Containing Recipes for Mixing 

American, English, French, German, Italian, Spanish and Russian Drinks 
— such as Juleps, Punches, Cobblers, Slings, Cocktails, etc. By Jerey 
Thomas, late Bar-Tender at the Metropolitan Hotel, New York, and Plan- 
ters’ House, St. Louis ; to which is appended a Manual for the Manufacture 
of Cordials, Liquors, Fancy Syrups, etc., containing Recipes after the most 
approved methods now used in Distillation of Liquors and Beverages, de- 
signed for the special use of Manufacturers and Dealers in Wines and 
Spirits, Grocers, Tavern Keepers, and Private Families — the same being 
adapted to the trade of the United States and Canadas. By Prof. Chris- 
tian Schcltz, Practical Chemist, and Manufacturer of' Wines, Liquors, 
Cordials, etc., from Berne, Switzerland ; the whole work containing over 
700 valuable recipes. A large book, bound in cloth. Price. §2 50 

The Science of Self-Defence. A treatise on Sparring and 

Wrestling. Including complete instructions in Training and Physical De- 
velopment ; ako, several remarks upon, and a course prescribed tor the re- 
duction of corpulency. By Edmond E. Price. Illustrated with explana- 
tory engravings. This book was written by N ed Price, the celebrated boxer, 
and is the best work that was ever written upon the subject of Sparring and 
Wrestling. It contains all the tricks and stratagems resorted to by profes- 
sional boxers, and the descriptions of the passes, blows and parries are all 
clearly explained 1 y the aid of numerous diagrams and engravings. That 
portion of the work which treats of wrestling is particularly thorough, and 


is well illustrated with engravings. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 75 cts 

Bound in cloth. Pr.ce SI 25 


Walkers Cnbhage Made Easy. Being a new and com- 

? lete Treatise on the game in all varieties ; including the whole of Anthony 
’asquin’s scientific work on Pive-Card Cribbage. By George Walker, 
Esq. This is a very comprehensive work on this Game, being the most 
complete ever written. It contains over 500 examples of how to discard, 
for your own and your adversary’s crib. S'mall octavo, 142 pages. 


Bound in boards, with muslin back. Price .75 cts, 

Bound in cloth, gilt side §1 00 


The French Wine and Liquor Manufacturer. A Practical 

Guide and Private Receipt Book for the American Liquor Merchant. By 
John Rack, Practical Wine and Liquor Manufacturer. Illustrated with 
descriptive Diasrrams, Tables, and Engravings. This is by far the most 
complete and reliable Book on the Manufacture of Liquor, ever published. 
Cloth. Price g3 00 

Courtship Made Easy; or. The Art of Making Lew fully Ex- 
plained. Containing full and minute directions for conducting a Courtship 
with Ladies of every age and position in society, and valuable information 
for persons who desire to enter the marriage state. Also, Forms of Love 
Letters to be used on certain occasions. 64 pages. Price 15 cts. 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


The Independent Liquorist; or, The Art of Manufacturing 

ail kinds of tig raps, Bitlers , Cordials, Champagne., IFincs, Lager Beer, AI& 
Porler, Beer, Punches, Tinctures, Extracts, Brandy, Gm, Essences, Flavorings, 
Colorings, Sauces, Catsups, Piclcles Preserves, etc. By L. Mo.nz.ekt, Practical 
Liquorist and Chemist. Every Druggist, Grocer, Restaurant, Hotel- keeper. 
Farmer, Fruit Dealer, Wine Merchant, and every private lamily should 
have a copy of this work. It gives the most approved methods, and a true 
description of the manner in which our most popular beverages are pre- 
pared, in such plain terms, that the most inexperienced person can manu- 
facture as -well as the practical man, without the aid of any expensive 
apparatus. 12mo., cloth. Price... S3 00 

The Game of Billiards. By Michael Phelan. Eighth 

edition, revised and enlarged. Embellished with a .Steel Portrait of the 
Author and titty-one Engravings and Diagrams. This is a complete book, 
and exhausts all that can be said about Billiards. It contains the revised 
Laws of all the Games, with clear directions how to make every variety of 
Shot, etc. 12mo., cloth. Price $150 


The Bordeaux Wine and Liquor Dealers’ Guide. A Treatise 

on the Manufacture of Liquors. By a Practical Liquor Manufacturer. 
12mo., cloth. The author, after telling what each liquid is composed of, 
furnishes a formula for making its exact counterpart — exact in everything. 
Each formula is comprehensive — no one can misunderstand it. 

Price $2 50 


100 Tricks with Cards. J. H. Green, the Reformed 

Gambler, has just authorized the publication of a new edition of his book 
entitled, “ Gamblers’ Tricks with Cards Exposed and Explained.” This is 
a book of 96 pages, and it exposes and explains all the Mysteries oi the 
Gambling Tables. It is interesting, not only lio those who play, but to those 
who do not. Old Players will get some new ideas from this curious book. 

Paper covers. Price 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 


The Laws of Love. A Complete Code of Gallantry. Con- 
taining concise rules for the conduct of Courtship through its entire pro- 
gress, aphorisms of love, rules for telling the characters and dispositions of 
women, remedies for love, and an Epistolary Code. 

12mo. paper. Price 25 Cts. 

The Manufacture of Liquors, Wines and Cordials. 

Without the Aid of Distillation. Also, the Manufacture of Effervescing 
Beverages and Syrups, Vinegar and Bitters. Prepared and arranged ex- 
pressly for the Trade. By Pierrk Lacouk. 12mo., cloth. Price... $2 50 

Boxing 1 Made Easy; or, The Cample' e Manual of Self-Defence, 

Clearly Explained and Illustrated in a Series of Easy Lessons, with some 
Important Hints to Wrestlers. Price 15 Cts- 

How to Win and How to Woo. Containing Rules for the 

Etiquette of Courtship, with directions showing how to win the favor of the 
Lnd»es, how to begin and end a Courtship, and how Love Lettei's should be 
written. Price 13 cts. 


Mather Carey’s Dream Book and Fortune-Teller. i6mo., 

paper cover, 64 pages. Price 15 Cts, 

Aristotle’s Book of Fate and Dictionary of Dreams. 

16mo., paper cover, 64 pages. Price 15 Cts. 

The Hindoo Fortune-Teller and Oracle of Destiny. 

16mo. pa’ier oover, 64 pages. Price 15 Ct3 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prioes annexed. 


The Combination Fortune - Teller and Dictionary of 

Breams. Being a comprehensive Encyclopaedia, explaining ail the differ- 
ent methods extant by which good and evil events and questions of Love 
and Matrimony are foretold by means of Cards, Dice, Dominoes, Apple- 
parings, Eggs, Tea-leaves and Coffee-grounds ; also, prognostications by 
Charms, Ceremonies, Omens and Moles, the Features and Form, Lines of 
the Hands, Spots on the Body, Lucky and Unlucky Days, etc. ; to which 
are added, a description of the Divining or Luck Bod, the Golden Wheel of 
Fortune, The Mystical Table or Chart of Fate, the Ladies’ Love Oracle, 
Napoleon's Oraculum, the Language of Flowers, one hundred and eighty- 
seven weather signs, and a complete Dictionary of Dreams, with their in- 
terpretations, containing 430 pages and illustrated with numerous engrav- 
ings and two large colored Lithographs. The whole combining “ Madam 
Le Normand’s Unerring Fortune-Teller,” “Fontaine’s Golden Wheel For- 
tune-Teller,” and “Madam Le Marchand’s Fortune Teller and Dreamer’s 
dictionary.” 12mo., cloth. Price 25 

Art Of Dancing without a Master ; or, Ball-Room Guide and 

Saslrudor. To which is added Hints on Etiquette; also, the Figures, 
Music and Necessary Instructions for the performance of the most Modern 
and Improved Dances. By Edward Ferrebo. This work also contain* 
105 pages of the Choicest Music, arranged for the piano-forte by the most 
celebrated professors. The music alone, if purchased in separate sheets at 
any of the music stores, would cost ten times the price of the book. 

Price 50 CtS. 

Morgan’s Freemasonry Exposed and Explained. Show- 
ing the Origin, History and Nature of Masonry; its effect on the Govern- 
ment and the Christian Behgion ; and containing a Key to all the Degrees 
of Freemasonry. Giving a clear and correct view of the Manner of confer- 
ring the different Degrees, as practised in all Lodges throughout the Globe. 
Price 25 cts. 

Arts of Beauty ; or, Secrets of a Lady's Toilet. With Hints 

to Gentlemen on the Art of Fascinating. By Madam Lola Montkz, 
Countess of Landsfolt. Cloth, gilt side. This book contains an account, 
in detail, of all the arts employed by the fashionable ladies of all the chief 
cities of Europe, for the purpose of developing and preserving their charms. 
Price 75 Cts. 

The Ladies’ Guide to Beauty. A Companion for the Toilet. 

Containing practical advice on improving the complexion, the hair, the 
hands, the form, the teeth, the eyes, the feet, the features, so as to insure 
the highest degree of perfection of which they are susceptible. And also 
upwards of one hundred recipes for various cosmetics, oils, pomades, etc. 
Paper. Price 25 Cts. 

The Ladies’ Love Oracle ; or. Counsellor to the Fair Sex. Be- 
ing a Complete Fortune-Teller and Interpreter to all questions upon the 
different events and situations of life, but more especially relating to all 
circumstances connected with Love, Courtship and Marriage. By Madam 
Le Marchand. Beautifully illustrated cover, printed in colors. 

Price 30 cts. 

Sut Lovingood. Yarns spun by “A Natural Born Durn’d 

Fool.” Warped and W T ove for Public Wear by Geo. W. Harris. Illus- 
trated with eight fine full-page engravings from designs by Howard. This 
book is crammed full of the most laughable stories ever published. 

12mo., tinted paper, cloth, beveled edges. Price $1 50 

The Al-ma-kan-tur Circle; (rr, How to Win a Sweetheart or 

Lever. By M. L. Byrn, M. D. Price 25 ct*. 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexe! 


The Mishaps and Adventures of Obadiah Oldbuck. Where- 
in are set forth, the Crosses, Chagrins, Calamities, Checks, Chills, the 
Changes, Circumgyrations, by which his Courtship was attended. Showing 
also, the issue of his suit, and his Espousal to his Lady Love. This humor- 
ous and curious book sets forth with 188 comic drawings, the misfortunes 
which befell Mr. Oldbuck : and also his five unsuccessful attempts to com- 
mit suicide — his hairbreadth escapes from fire, water and famine — his affec- 
tion for his poor dog, etc. To look over this book will make you laugh and 
you can’t help it. Price .... 30 els. 

Barber’s American Book of Beady-Made Speeches. Con- 
taining 159 original examples of humorous and serious Speeches, suitable 
for the following occasions : Presentation Speeches, Convivial Speeches, 
Festival Speeches, Addresses of Welcome, Addresses of Congratulation and 
Compliment, Political Speeches, Dinner and Supper Speeches, for Clubs, 
Associations, etc. ; Trade Banquets, etc. ; Off-hand Speeches on a variety 
of subjects ; together with appropriate Replies to each. To which are added. 
Resolutions of Compliment, Congratulation and Condolence, and a variety 
of Toasts and Sentiments for Public and Private Entertainments. 

Paper cover. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

Allyn’s Ritual of Freemasonry. Containing a Complete 

Key to the following Degrees: Degree of Entered Apprentice ; Degree of 
Eellow Craft *, Decree of Master Mason ; Degree of Mark Master ; Degree 
of Past Master ; Degree of Excellent Master; Degree of Royal Arch; 
Royal Arch Chapter ; Degree of Royal Master ; Degree of Select Master ; 
Degree of Super-Excellent Master ; Degree of Ark and Doye ; Degree of 
Knights of Constantinople. Degree of Secret Monitor ; Degree of Heroino 
of Jericho; Degree of Knights of Three Kings ; Mediterranean Pass ; Order 
of Knights of the Red Cross ; Order of Knights Templar and Knights of 
Malta; Knights of the Christian Mark, and Guards of the Conclave; 
Knights of the Holy Sepulchre ; The Holy and Thrice Illusti’ious .Order of 
the Cross ; Secret Master ; Perfect Master ; Intimate Secretary ; Provost 
and Judge ; Intendant of the Buildings, or Master in Israel; Elected 
Knights of Nine; Elected Grand Master; Sublime Knights Elected; 
Grand Master Architect ; Knights of the Ninth Arch ; Grand Elect, Per- 
fect and Sublime Mason. Illustrated with 38 copper-plate engravings ; to 
which is added, a Key to the Phi Beta Kappa, Orange, and Odd Fellows’ 
Societies. By Avery Allyn, K. R. C. K. T. K. M., etc. 12mo, cloth. 

Price $5 0.0 

Jachin and Boas; or, An Authentic Key to the Door of Free- 
masonry, both Ancient and Modern. Calculated not only for the Instruction 
of every new-made Mason, but also for the Information of all who intend 
to become Brethren, interspersed with a variety of Notes and Remarks 
necessary to Explain and render the whole clear to the meanest capacity ; 
to which is now added, a new and accurate List of all the English Regular 
Lodges in the world, according to their seniority, with the dates of each 
Constitution, and the Days of Meeting. To which is added, Masonry Dis- 
sected, by Samuel Pritchard, and the Freemason’s Winepress, Consisting 
of Toasts, Sentiments and Anecdote, and much curious matter relating to 

Masons and Masonry. 16mo, cloth. Price SI 50 

Paper cover SI 00 

A Catalogue of Books on Freemasonry and Kindred Sub- 

jects. A new and greatly improved edition. 12mo, to match Allyn’s Rit- 

al. Cloth. Price . $ 1 25 

To the collector of Masonic Books the above Catalogue will prove a labor- 
saving machine. By consulting it he will be enabled to do more in a single 
evening in the way of selecting books that lie would like to possess, than by 
any other means he would accomplish in years. 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

Day’s Book-keeping Without a Master. Containing the 

Rudiments of Book-keeping in Single and Double Entry, together with tho 
proper Forms and Rules for opening and keeping Condensed and General 
Book Accounts. This work is printed in a beautiful script type, and hence 
combines the advantages of a handsome style of writing with its very 'sim- 
ple and easily understood lessons in Book-keeping. It presents a, facsimile 
of a handsomely written set of account books — on a small scale, it is true, 
but very neat and pretty. This will enable the learner to improve his 
hand-writing, while perfecting himself as an expert, or first-class account- 
ant — which "is done by frequent practice. The book exhibits all the differ- 
ent forms of Accounts, Balance Sheets, Trial-Balance, Commercial and 
Monetary Letters, Drafts, Notes, Credits, Orders, Inquiries, Replies, etc., 
etc., arranged in the script type exactly as, they should be written for busi- 
ness purposes. This feature makes the work invaluable as a book of refer- 
ence. The several pages have explanations at the bottom, to assist the 
learner, in small type. As a pattern for opening book-accounts it is especi- 
ally valuable — particularly for those who are not well posted in the art. 
Day’s Book-keeping is the size of a regular quarto Account Book, and is 
made to lie flat open, for convenience in use. Price 50 Cts. 

Diank Books for Day’s Book-keeping. We have for sale 

Books of 96 pages each, ruled according to the patterns mentioned on page 
3 of Day’s Book-keeping, suitable for practice of the learner, viz. : No. 1 — 
For General Book-keeping, pages 4 and 5 ; for Cash Account on page 13 ; 
for Day Book in Single Entry, pages 15 to 25. No 2 — For Condensed Ac- 
counts* pages 9 and 10 ; for Cash Accounts, page 12 ; for Journal in Double 
Entry, pages 34 to 43 . No. 3 — For Ledgers in Double or Single Entry, 
pages 26 to 44. Price, each 50 Cts* 

How to Write a Composition. This original work will 

be found a valuable aid in writing a composition on any topic. It lays 
down plain directions for the division of a subject into its appropriate heads, 
and for arranging them in their natural order, commencing with the simplest 
theme qjid advancing progressively to the treatment of more complicated 
subjects. The use of this excellent hand-book will save the student the 
many hours of labor too often wasted in trying to write a plain composition. 
It affords a perfect skeleton of each subject, with its headings or divisions 
clearly defined, and each heading filled in with the ideas which the subject 
suggests ; so that all the writer has to do, in order to produce a good com- 

S isition, is to enlarge on them, to suit his taste and inclination, 
ound in boards, cioth back. Price 50 Cts. 

Nugent’s Burlesque and Musical Acting Charades. Contain- 
ing ten Charades, all in different styles, two of which are easy and effective 
Comic Parlor Operas, with Music and Pianoforte Accompaniments. These 
Plays require no scenery, and the dialogue is short, witty, and easy to learn. 
To each Charade will be found an introductory note, containing hints for its 


performance. Paper cover. Price 30 Cts- 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 


Snipsnaps and Snickerings of Simon Snodgrass. These 

funny and amusing stories are illustrative of Dish Drolleries, Ludicrous Dutch. 
Blunders, Yankee Tricks and Dodges, Backwoods Boasting, Negro Comi- 
calities, Perilous Pranks of Fighting Men, Frenchmen’s Queer Mistakes, 
and other phases of eccentric character to make a complete Medley of Wit 
and Humor. Full of funny engravings. Price 25 Cts- 

The Strange and Wonderful Adventures of Bachelor But- 
terfly. Showing his Hairbreadth Escapes from fire and cold— 

his being come over by a Widow with nine small children — and his firm 
endurance of these and other perils of a most extraordinary nature. The 
whole illustrated by about 200 engravings. Price 30 cts. 


Popular Books Sent Free of Postage at tho Prices annexed. 


Howard’s Recitations, Comic , Serious and Pathetic. Being a col- 
lection of fresh Recitations in Proso and Poetry, suitable for Anniversaries, 
Exhibitions, Sociables and Evening Parties. 180 pages, 16mo. 

Paper Cover 30cts. Bound in Boards 50cts. 

Frost’s Hew Book of Dialogues. Being an entirely new and 

original series of Humorous Dialogues, designed for performance at School 

Anniversaries and Exhibitions. ISO pages. Paper Covers 30etS. 

Bound in Boards 50cts! 

Frost’s Dialogues for Young Folks. A collection of Original, 

Moral and Humorous Dialogues, adapted to the use of School and Church 
Exhibitions, Family Gatherings and Juvenile Celebrations on all occasions. 
A few of the Dialogues are long enough to form a sort of little drama that 
will interest more advanced scholars, while short and easy ones abound for 


the use of quite young children. Paper Cover 30cts. 

Bound in Boards, with Cloth Backs, Side in Colors 50cts. 


Frost’s Humorous and Exhibition Dialogues. This is n col- 
lection of Sprightly Original Dialogues, in Prose and Yerse, intended to be 
spoken at School Exhibitions. Some of the pieces are for boys, some for 
girls, while a number are designed to be used by both sexes. 180 pages. 
Paper Covers 30ctS. Bound in Boards 50cts 

French Self-Taught. A new system on the most simple prin- 
ciples for Universal Self-Tuition, with English Pronunciation of every word. 
By Franz Thimm. Price 25cts* 

German Self-Taught. Uniform with “French Self-Taught.” 
By Franz Thimm. Price 25cts. 

Spanish Self-Taught. Uniform with “ French Self-Taught.’ 

By Franz Thimm. Price 25cts. 

Italian Self-Taught. Uniform with “French Self-Taught.” 

By Franz Thimm. Price 25cts. 

Franz Thimm’s Modern Languages. Being the above four 

works bound together in cloth, 16mo. Price 81.50 

Tile Banjo, and How to Play It. Containing, in addition to 

tho Elementary Study, a choice collection of Polkas, Waltzes, Solos, Schot- 
tisches, Songs, Hornpipes, Jigs. Reels, &c.; with full explanations of both 
the “Banjo” and “Guitar” styles of execution, and designed to impart a 
complete knowledge of the Art of Playing the Banjo practically, without tho 
aid of a Teacher. By Frank Converse, author of the “Banjo without a 
Master.” lGmo. Bound in Boards, with Cloth Back 50cts. 

How to Speak in Public ; or, the Art of Extempore Oratory. A 

valuable manual for those who desire to become ready, off-hand speakers. 
16mo. Paper Cover 25cts. 

How to Shine in Society ; or, ike Science of Conversation. Con- 
taining the principles, laws, and general usages of polite society. 16mo. 
Paper Cover...... • 25cts. 

The Athlete’s Guide, a hand-book on Walking, Running, and 

Rowin" giving full instructions for Training, and a Record of all the princi- 
pal events since the year 1773, with sketches of the lives of the most celebra- 
ted Athletes. By W.E. Harding. Ex-Champiou. 18mo, cloth. Price. 5Gcts 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Howard’s Book of Drawing-Boom Theatricals, A collec, 

tion of twelve short and amusing plays in one act and one scene, specially 
adapted for private performances; with practical directions, for their 
preparation and management. Some of the plays are adapted for per- 
formers of one sex only. This book is just what is wanted by those who 
purpose getting up an entertainment of private theatricals : it contains all 
the necessary instructions for insuring complete success. 180 pages. 

Paper cover. Price < 30 ct&> 

Bound in boards with cloth back < 50 ctsi 

Hudson’s Private Theatricals for Home Performance. A 

collection of Humorous Plays suitable for an Amateur Entertainment, with 
directions how to carry out a performance successfully. Some of the plays 
in this collection are adapted for performance' by males only, others require 
only females for the cast, and all of them are in one scene and one act, and 
may be represented in any moderate sized parlor, without much prepara- 
tion of costume or scenery. 180 pages. 


Paper eovers. Price 30 eta- 

Bound in boards with cloth back 50 eta. 


The Art of Dressing Well. By Miss S. A. Frost. Thi3 

book is designed for ladies and gentlemen who desire to make a favorable 
impression upon society, and is intended to meet the requirements of any 
season, place, or time ; to offer such suggestions as will be valuable to thoso 
^ust entering society ; to brides, for whose guidance a complete trousseau 
is described ; to persons in mourning ; indeed, to every individual who pays 
attention to the important objects of economy, style, and propriety of cos- 


tume. 188 pages. 

Paper covers. Price 30 eta 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts- 


How to Amuse an Evening Party. A complete collection 

of Home Recreations, including Round Games, Forfeits, Parlor Magic, 
Puzzles, and Comic Diversions ; together with a great variety of Scientific 
Recreations and Evening Amusements. Profusely illustrated with nearly 
two hundred fine woodcuts. Here is family amusement for the million. 
Here is parlor or drawing-room entertainment, night after night, for a 
whole winter. A young man with this volume may render himself the beau 
ideal of a delightful companion at every party. He may take the lead in 
amusing the company, and win the hearts of all the ladies, and charm away 
the obduracy of the stoniest-hearted parent, by his powers of entertainment. 


Bound in ornamental paper cover. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 eta* 


Jffartine’s Droll Dialogues and Laughable Eecitations. 

By Arthur Martine, author of Martine’s Letter-Writer,” etc., etc. A 
collection of Humorous Dialogues, Comic Recitations, Brilliant Burlesques, 
Spirited Stump Speeches, and Ludicrous Farces, adapted for School Cele- 


brations and Home Amusement. 188 pages. 

Paper covers. Price 30 ctgo 

Bound in boards, with cloth back , „50 ct8» 


Frost’s Humorous and Exhibition Dialogues This is a 

collection of sprightly original Dialogues, in Prose and Verse, intended to 
be spoken at School Exhibitions. Some of the pieces ai'e for boys, some for 
girls, while a number are designed to be used by both sexes. The Dialogues 
are all good, and will recommend themselves to those who desire to have 
innocent fun— the prevailing feature at a school celebration. 180 pages. 


Paper cover. Price 30 cts- 

Bound in boards, 50 cts 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


The Young Debater and Chairman’s Assistant. Contain- 
ing instructions how to form and conduct Societies, Clubs and other organ 
ized associations. Also, full Rules of Order for the government of their 
Business and Debates ; together with complete directions How to Compose 
Resolutions, Reports and Petitions ; and the best way to manage Publio 
Meetings, Celebrations, Dinners and Pic-ls ics. Also instructions in Elocu- 
tion, with hints on Debate. This book is compiled from our larger work 
entitled “ The Finger Post to Public Business.” To any one who desires* 
to become familiar with the duties of an Officer or -Committee-man in c 
Society or Association, this work will be invaluable, as it contains minute 
instructions in everything that pertains to the routine of Society Business. 

152 pages. Paper cover, price 3 Q 

Bound in boards, with cloth back, price gO eta 

Frost’s Laws and By-Laws of American Society. A con- 
densed but thorough treatise on Etiquette and its usages in America. 
Containing’ plain and reliable directions for deportment on the following 
subjects : Letters of Introduction, Salutes and Salutations, Calls, Conver- 
sations, Invitations, Dinner Company, Balls, Morning and Evening Par' 
ties, Visiting, Street Etiquette, Riding and Driving, Travelling; Etiquette 
in Church, Etiquette for Places of Amusement ; Servants, Hotel Etiquette ; 
Etiquette in Weddings, Baptisms, and Funerals ; Etiquette with Children, 
and at the Card-Table ; Visiting Cards, Letter- Writing, the Lady’s Toilet, 
the Gentleman’s Toilet ; besides one hundred unclassified laws applicable 


to all occasions. Paper cover, price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back, price 50 eta; 


How to Cook Potatoes, Apples, Eggs and Fish, Four Hun- 
dred Different Ways. The matter embraced in this work consists of the 
combined contents of four little books which have obtained immense popu- 
larity in France and England, and which have been thoroughly revised and 
adapted for American housekeepers by an American cook of great experi- 
ence. The work especially recommends itself to those who are often em- 
barrassed for want of variety in dishes suitable for the breakfast table or, 
on occasions where the necessity arises for preparing a meal at short notice. 


Paper covers, price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back, price 50 cts. 


Uncle Josh’s Trunk-Full of Fun. A portfolio of first-class 

Wit and Humor, and never-ending source of Jollity, Containing the rich* 
est collection of Comical Stories, Cruel Sells, Side-spiitting Jokes, Humorous 
Poetry, Quaint Parodies, Burlesque Sermons, New Conundrums and Mirth 
Provoking Speeches ever published. Interspersed with Curious Puzzles, 
Amusing Card Tricks, and Feats of Parlor Magic. Illustrated with nearly 
200 Funny Engravings. This book consists of 64 large octavo pages, and 
contains three times as much reading matter and real fun as any other 
book of the same price. Illustrated cover, printed in colors, price. . .15 eta. 


The American Housewife and Kitchen Directory. This 

valuable book embraces three hundred and seventy-eight receipts for 
cooking all sorts of American dishes in the most economical manner, and, 
besides these, it also contains a great variety of important secrets for wash- 
ing, cleansing, scouring, and extracting grease, paints, stains and iron- 


mould from cloth, muslin and linen. 

Bound in ornamental paper covers, price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back, price 50 ct3. : 


How to Cook and How to Carve, Giving plain and easily 

understood directions for preparing and cooking, with the greatest economy, 
©very k?nd of dish, with complete instructions for serving the same. This 
Ix>ok is just the thing for a young Housekeeper. It explains everything 
►jbout the art of Cooking. It is worth a dozen of expensive French books. 

Paper covers, price. 30 cts. 

Bouad in boards, with cloth back, price. -50 eta 


Popular Book3 sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


Brudder Bones’ Book of Stump Speeches and Burlesque 

Orations. Also containing Humorous Lectures, Ethiopian Dialogues, Plan- 
tation Beenes, Negro Farces and Burlesques, Laughable Interludes and Com- 
ic Recitations, interspersed with Dutch, Irish, French and Yankee Stories. 
Compiled and edited by John F. Scott. Thi3 book contains some of the 
best hits of the leading negro delineators of the present time, as well as 
mirth-provoking jokes and repartees of the most celebrated End-Men of the 
day, and specially designed for the introduction of fun in. an evening’s en- 


tertainment. Paper covers. Price 30 Cta. 

Bound in boards, illuminated 50 cts. 


Frost’s Original Letter- Writer. A complete collection of 

Original Letters and Notes, upon every imaginable subject of Every-Day 
Life, with plain directions about everything connected with writing a letter. 
Containing Letters of Introduction, Letters on Business, Letters answering 
Advertisements, Letters of Recommendation, Applications for Employment, 
Letters of Congratulation, of Condolence, of Friendship and Relationship, 
Love Letters, Notes of Invitation, Notes Accompanying Gifts, Letters of 
Favor, of Advice, and Letters of Excuse, together with an appropriate 
answer to each. The whole embracing three hundred letters and notes. By 
B. A. Frost, author of “ The Parlor Stage,” “ Dialogues for Young Folks,” 
etc. To which is added a comprehensive Table of Synonyms alone worth 
double the price asked for the book. This work is not a rehash of English 
writers, but is entirely practical and original, and suited to the wants of the 
American public. We assure our readers that it is the best collection of 
letters ever published in this country. Bound in hoards, cloth hack, vdth 
illuminated sides. Price .• -50 cts. 

Inquire Within for Anything you Want to Know ; or. Over 

3,700 Facts for the People. “ Inquire Within ” is one of the most valuable 
and extraordinary volumes ever presented to the American public, and 
embodies nearly 4,000 facts, in most of which any person will find instruc- 
tion, aid and entertainment. It contains so many valuable recipes, that 
an enumeration of them requires seventy-hvo columns of fine type for the 
index. Illustrated. 436 large pages. Price \gl 50 

The Sociable ; or, One 7'houmnd and One Home Amusements. 

Containing Acting Proverbs, Dramatic Charades, Acting Charades, Tableaux 
Vivants, Parlor Games and Parlor Magic, and a choice collection of Puzzles, 
etc., illustrated with nearly 300 Engravings and Diagrams, the whole being 
a fund of never-ending entertainment. By the author of the “ Magician’s 
Own Book.” Nearly 400 pages, 12 mo. cloth, gilt side stamp. Price. .^1 50 

Martina’s Hand-Book of Etiquette and Guide to True Po- 
liteness. A complete Manuahfor all those who desire to understand good 
breeding, the customs of good society, and to avoid incorrect and vulgar 
habits. Containing clear and comprehensive directions for correct manners, 
conversation, dress, introductions, rules for good behavior at Dinner Parties 
and the table, with hints on wine and carving at the table; together with 
Etiquette of the Ball and Assembly Room, Evening Parties, and the usages 
to be observed when visiting or receiving calls ; deportment in the street 
and when travelling. To which is added the Etiquette of Courtship and 


Marriage. Bound in hoards, with cloth back. Price 50 cts. 

Bound a cloth, gilt side 75 Cts. 


Bay’s American Eeady-Eeckoner, containing Tables for 

rapid calculations of Aggregate Values, Wages, Salaries, Board, Interest 
Money, &c., &c. Also, Tables of Timber, Plank, Board and Log*Measurc- 
ments, with full explanations how to measure them, either by the square 
foot (board measure), cubic foot (timber measure), &e. Bound in boards. 


Price 50 CtS. 

Bound in cloth * 75 Ct& 


■Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


The Parlor Magician ; or, One Hundred Tricks for the J) ratt- 
ing- Room, containing an Extensive and Miscellaneous Collection of Conjur- 
ing and Legerdemain ; Sleights with Dice, Dominoes, Cards, Itibbcns, 
Rings, Fruit, Coin, Balls, Handkerchiefs, etc., all of which may be per- 
formed in the Parlor or Drawing-Room, without the aid of any apparatus ; 
also embracing a choice variety of Curious Deceptions, which may be per- 
formed with the aid of simple apparatus ; the whole illustrated and clearly 


Explained with 121 engravings. Paper Covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts.. 


Book of Riddles and Five Hundred Home Amusements.' 

Containing a Choice and Curious Collection of Riddles, Charades, Enigmas, 
Rebuses, Anagrams, Transpositions, Conundrums, Amusing Puzzles, Queer 
Sleights, E,ecreations in Arithmetic, Fireside Giyaes and Natural Magic, 
embracing Entertaining Amusements in Magnetism, Chemistry, Second 
Sight and Simple Recreations in Science for Family and Social Pastime, il- 


lustrated with sixty Engravings. Paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 


Book of Fireside G-ames. Containing an Explanation of the 

most Entertaining Games suited to the Family Circle as a Recreation, such 
as Games of Action, Games which merely require attention, Games which 
require memory, Catch Games, which have for their objects Tricks or Mysti- 
fication, Games in which an opportunity is afforded to display Gallantry, 
Wit, or some slight knowledge of certain Sciences, Amusing Forfeits, Fire- 
side Games for Winter Evening Amusement, etc. 


Paper covers. Price 30 cts- 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 


Parlor Theatricals ; or, Winter Evenings' Entertainment. Con- 
taining Acting Proverbs. Dramatic Charades, Acting Charades, or Draw- 
ing-Room Pantomimes, Musical Burlesques, Tableaux Vivants, etc.; with 
Instructions for Amateurs ; how to Construct a Stage and Curtain ; how to 
get up Costumes and Properties; on the “Making up” of Characters; 
Exits and Entrances; how to arrange Tableaux, etc. Illustrated with 


Engravings. Paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 


The Book of 500 Curious Puzzles. Containing a largo col- 
lection of entertaining Paradoxes, Perplexing Deceptions in numbers, and 
Amusing Tricks in Geometry. By the author ot “ The Sociable,” *' The Se- 
cret Out,” “ The Magician’s Own Book.” Illustrated with a great variety 
of Engravings. This book commands a large sale. It will furnish fun and 

amusement for a whole winter. Paper covers. Price 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

The above five books are compiled from the “ Sociable ” and “ Magician’s 
Own.” 


The American Boys’ Book of Sports and Games. A Reposf- 

’ tory of In and Out-Door Amusements for Boys and Youth. Illustrated 
with nearly 700 engravings, designed by White, Herrick, Weir and Harvey, 
■i * 3(1 engraved by N. Orr. This is, unquestionably, the most attractive and 
valuable book of its kind ever issued in this or any other country. It has 
been three years in preparation, and embraces all the sports and games that 
tend to develop the physical constitution, improve the mind and heart, and 
relieve the tedium of leisure hours, both in the parlor and the field. The 
Engravings are all in the finest style of art, and embrace eight full-pag« 
ornamental titles, illustrating the several departments of the work, beauti- 
fully printed on tinted paper. The book is issued in the best style, being 
printed on fine sized pamer, and handsomely bound. Extra cloth, gilt side 

and back, extra gold. Brice 50 

Extra cloth, full gilt edges, back and side $4 09 


Popular Book3 sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


The American Home Cook Book. Containing several hun- 
dred. excellent Recipes. The whole based on many years’ experience of an 
American Housewife. Illustrated with Engravings. All the Recipes in 
this book are written from actual experiments in Cooking. There are no 
copyings from theoretical cooking recipes. 


Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 ct3. 

Bound in paper covers. Price 30 eta. 


Amateur Theatricals and Fairy-Tale Dramas. A collection 

of original plays, expressly designed for Drawing-room performance. By 
S. A. Frost. This work is designed to meet a want, which has been long 
felt, of short and amusing pieces suitable to the limited stage of the private 
parlor. The old friends of fairy-land will be recognized among the Fairy- 
Tale Dramas, newly ctethed and arranged. 


Paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 


Parlor Tricks with Cards. Containing explanations of 

Tricks and Deceptions with Playing Cards, embracing Tricks with Cards 
performed by Sleight-of-hand, by the aid of Memory, Mental Calculation 
and Arrangement of the Cards, by the aid of Confederacy ; and TricUs 
performed by the aid of Prepared Cards. The whole illustrated and made 

f >lain and easy, with 70 engravings. This book is an abridgment of our 
arge work, entitled “ The Secret Out.” 


Paper covers. Price 30 cts* 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts* 


Chesterfield’s Letter-writer and Complete Book of Eti- 
quette? or > Concise, Systematic Directions for Arranging and Writing Letters. 
Also, Model Correspondence in Friendship and Business, and a great variety 
of Model Love Letters. This work is also a Complete Book of Etiquette. 
There is more real information in this book than in half a dozen volumes 
of the most expensive ones. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back. Price .' 35 Cts. 

Frank Converse’s Complete Banjo Instructor. Without a 

Master. Containing a choice collection of Banjo Solos, Hornpipes, Reels, 
Jigs, Walk Arounds, Songs, and Banjo Stories, progressively arranged and 
plainly explained. Bound in boards, with cloth back. Price 50 cts. 

The Magician’s Own Book. Containing several hundred 

amusing Sleight-of-hand and Card Tricks, Perplexing Puzzles, Entertain- 
ing Tricks and Secret Writing Explained. Illustrated with over 500 wood 
engravings. 12mo., cloth, gilt side and back stamp. Price SI 50 

Horth’s Book of Love Letters. With Directions how to 

write and when to use them, and 120 specimen Letters, suitable for Lovers 
of any age and condition, and under all circumstances. Interspersed with 
the author’s comments thereon. The whole forming a convenient hand- 
book of valuable information and counsel for the use of those who need 
friendly guidance and advice in matters of Love, Courtship and Marriage. 
By Ingoldsey North. This book is recommended to all who are from any 
cause in doubt as to the manner in which they should write or reply to let- 
ters upon love and courtship. The reader will be aided in his thoughts— hs 
will see where he is likely to please and where to displease, how to begin 
and how to end his letter, and how to judge of those nice shades of expres- 
sion and feeling concerning which a few mistaken expressions may create 
misunderstanding. All who wish not only to copy a love letter, but to learn 
the art of wntiug them, will find North’s book a yery pleasant, sensible and 
friendly companion. It is an additional recommendation that the variety 

offered is very large. Cloth. Trice 75 cts. 

Bound in boards..... 50 


Popular tfooks seat Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 


The Courtship and Adventures of Jonathan Homebred; 

or, The Scrapes and Escapes of a Live Yankee. Beautifully Illustrated. 
12mo., cloth. This book is printed in handsome style, on good paper, and 
with amusing engravings. 

Price .• 50 

The Wizard of the North’s Hand-Book of Natural 

Magic. Being a series of the Newest Tricks of Deception, arranged for 
Amateurs and Lovers of the Art. By Professor J. H. Anderson, the great 
W izai d of the N ortln 

- Price 25 Ct*. 

fhe Encyclopedia of Popular Songs. Being a compila- 
tion of all the new and fashionable Patriotic, Sentimental, Ethiopian, 
Humorous, Comic and Convivial Songs, the whole comprising over 40C 
songs. 

12mo., cloth, gilt. Price gl 25 


Tony Pastor's Book of 600 Comic Songs and Speeches. 

Being an entire collection of all the Humorous Songs, Stump Speeches, 
Burlesque Orations, Funny Scenes, Comic Duets, Diverting Dialogues, and 
Local Lyrics, as sung and given by the unrivaled Comic Vocalist and Stump 
Orator, Tony Pastor. 

Bound in boards, cloth back SI 00 


Yale College Scrapes ; or, How the Boys Qo It at New Haven. 

This is a book of 114 pages, containing accounts of all the noted and fa* 
mous “ Scrapes ” and “ Sprees,” of which students at Old Yale have been 
guilty for the last quarter of a century. 

Price 25 CtS. 

The Comic English Grammar ; or, A Complete Grammar of 

our Language, with Comic Examples. Illustrated with about fifty engrav- 
ings. Price 25 CtS. 

The Comical Adventures of David Dufficks. Illustrated 

with over one hundred Funny Engravings. Large octavo. 

Price 25 cts. 


Anecdotes of Love. Being a true account of the most re- 
markable events connected with the History of Love in all Ages and among 
all Nations. By Lola Montez, Countess of Landsfeldt. 

Large 12mo., cloth. Price **£>*50 

Tony Pastor’s Complete Budget of Comic Songs. Con- 
taining a complete collection of the New and Original Songs, Burlesque 
Orations, Stump Speeches, Comic Dialogues, Pathetic Ballads, as sung and 
given by the celebrated Vocalist, Tony Pastor. 

Cloth, gilt. Price . • • • • ®1 25 


The Laughable Adventures of Messrs. Brown, Jones and 

■Robinson Showing where they went and how they went ; what they did 
and how 'they did it. With nearly two hundred most thrillmgly comic 


engravings. 
Price 


30 cts. 


Be Walden’s Ball-Eoom Companion; or, Dancing Male 

Tv.cjrr A collection of the Fashionable Drawing-Room Dances, wiih lull 
directions for dancing all the figures of “The German.” By Emile De\V al- 
dsn, Professor of Dancing. Bound in boards, cloth bank.. - *50 Cts. 


Papular Song Books, sent Free of Postage. Price Ten Cents each. 


NEW SONG- BOOMS. 

This list of Song Books contains all kinds of Songs, embracing Love, Senti- 
mental, Ethiopian, Scotch, Irish, Convivial, Comic, Patriotic, Pathetic, aixi 
Dutch Songs, besides a great variety of Stump Speeches, Burlesque Orations, 
Plantation Scenes, Irish, Dutch, and Yankee Stories, Comic Recitations, Co- 
nundrums and Toasts. 

HARRY RICHMOND’S MY YOUNG WIPE AND I SONGSTER 10 Ota, 

HARRY ROBINSON’S DON’T YOU WISH YOU WAS ME SONGSTER. 10 “ 

JOHNNY WILD’S WHAT AM I DOING SONGSTER 10 “ 

BUELL’S KU-KLUX-KLAN SONGSTER 10 “ 

PRANK KERN’S PRETTY LITTLE DEAR SONGSTER 10 “ 

BARRY RICHMOND’S NOT-FOR-JOSEPH SONGSTER 10 “ 

DAYE REED’S SALLY-COME- UP SONGSTER 10 “ 

THE ROOTLE-TUM TOOTLE-TUM TAY SONGSTER 10 “ 

SAM SLICK’S YANKEE SONGSTER 10 “ 

CHAMPAGNE CHARLEY SONGSTER 30 “ 

JENNY ENGEL’S DEAR LITTLE SHAMROCK SONGSTER 10 “ 

BILLY EMERSON’S NEW COMIC SONGSTER 10 “ 

BERRY’S LAUGH AND GROW FAT SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S BOWERY SONGSTER 1C “ 

TONY PASTOR’S WATER-FALL SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S 444 COMBINATION SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S OPERA-HOUSE SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S CARTE DE VISITE SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S GREAT SENSATION SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S OWN COMIC VOCALIST 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S COMIC IRISH SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S COMIO SONGSTER 10 “ 

TONY PASTOR’S UNION SONGSTER 10 “ 

PADDY’S THE BOY SONGSTER 10 “ 

BONNY DUNDEE SONGSTER 10 “ 

WILL CARLETON’S DANDY PAT SONGSTER 10 “ 

BILLY EMERSON’S NANCY FAT SONGSTER 10 “ 

HOOLEY’S OPERA HOUSE SONGSTER 10 “ 

SAM SHARPLEY’S IRON-CLAD SONGSTER 10 “ 

JOE ENGLISH’S COMIC IRISH SONGSTER 10 k ‘ 

BODY MAGUIRE’S COMIC VARIETY SONGSTER 10 “ 

HARRY PELL’S EBONY SONGSTER 10 “ 

FRANK BROWER’S BLaOK DIAMOND SONGSTER 10 “ 

FRANK CONVERSE’S OLD CREMONA SONGSTER 10 “ 

NELSE SEYMOUR’S BIG SHOE SONGSTER 10 “ 

THE LANIGAN’S BALL SONGSTER 10 “ 

TOM MOORE’S IRISH MELODIES 10 “ 

BILLY HOLMES’ COMIC LOCAL LYRICS 10 “ 

FATTIE STEWART’S COMIC SONGSTER 10 “ 

CHRISTY’S BONES AND BANJO SONGSTER 10 “ 

GEORGE CHRISTY’S ESSENCE OF OLD KENTUCKY 10 “ 

CHRISTY’S NEW SONGSTER AND BLACK JOKER 10 “ 

THE CONVIVIAL SONGSTER 10 “ 

HEART AND HOME SONGSTER 10 *’ 

BOB HART’S PLANTATION SONGSTER 10 

BILLY BIRCH’S ETHIOPIAN SONGSTER 10 •• 

THE SHAMROCK; OR, SONGS OP IRELAND • 10 “ 

HARRISON’S COMIC SONGSTER 10 ** 

THE CAMP-FIRE SONG BOOK 10 *' 

THE CHARLEY O’MALLEY IRISH SONGSTER 10 “ 

FRED MAY’S COMIC IRISH SONGSTER 10 “ 

THE LOVE AND SENTIMENTAL SONGSTER 10 “ 

THE IRISH BOY AND YANKEE GIRL SONGSTER 10 “ 

THE FRISKY IRISH SONGSTER 10 “ 

GUS SHAW'S COMIC SONGSTER 10 M 

WOOD’S MINSTREL SONG BOOK 1C “ 

WOOD’S NEW PLANTATION MELODIES., 10 ‘ 


Popular Books seat Free of Postage at the Prices aancaed. 


Spayth’s Draughts or Checkers for Beginners. Being a 

comprehensive Guide for those ^ho desire to learn the Game. This treatise 
■was written by Henry Spayth, the celebrated player, and is by far the 
most complete and instructive elementary work on Draughts ever published. 
It is profusely illustrated with diagrams of ingenious stratagems, curious 
positions, and perplexing problems, and contains a great variety of inter- 
esting and instructive Games, progressively arranged and clearly explained 
with notes, so that the learner may easily comprehend them. With the 
aid of this valuable Manual, a beginner may soon master the theory of 
Checkers, and will only require a little practice to become proficient in tha 
Game. Cloth, gilt side. Price... _ 75 Cts. 

The Eeason Why of General Science. A careful collec- 
tion of some thousands of Reasons for things, which, though generally 
known, are imperfectly understood. Being a book of Condensed Sci- 
entific Knowledge. It is a complete Encyclopedia of Science; and per- 
sons who have never had the advantage of a liberal education may, by the 
aid of this volume, acquire knowledge which the study of year's only would 
impart in the ordinary course. It explains everything in Science that can 
•be thought of, and the whole is arranged with a full index. A large voL 
time of 346 pages, bound in muslin, gilt, and illustrated with numerous 
wood-cuts. Price SI 50 

Be Walden’s Ball-room Companion ; or, Dancing Made 

Easy. A Complete Practical Instructor in the art of Dancing, containing 
all the fashionable and approved Dances, directions for calling the Figures, 
etc. By Emile De Walden, Teacher of Dancing. This book gives in- 
struction in Deportment, Rudiments aud Positions, Bows and Courtesies, 
Fancy Daucing, Quadrilles, Waltzes, Minuets, Jigs, Spanish Dances, Pol- 
ka, Schottische, Galop, Deux Temps, Danish, Redowa, Varsovienne, Hop, 
etc., together with all the newest Waltzes and Quadrilles in vogue. It also 
contains complete directions for all the figures of the celebrated “German” 
or Cotillion. Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 cts- 

The Game of Draughts, or Checkers, Simplified and Ex- 
plained. With practical - Diagrams and Illustrations, together with a 
Checker-Board, numbered and printed in red. Containing the Eighteen 
Standard Games, with over 200 of the best variations, selected from the 
various authors, together with many original ones never before published. 
By D. Scattergood. 

Bound in cloth, with flexible covers. Price 50 cts. 

Courteney’s Dictionary of Abbreviations ; Literary, Scien- 
tific, Commercial, Ecclesiastical, Military, Naval, Legal and Medical. A 
book of reference — 3,000 abbreviations— for the solution of all literary mys- 
teries. By Edward S. C. Courteney, Esq. This is a very useful book. 
Everybody should get a copy. Price * - . -12 cts. 

How to Detect Adulteration in Our Daily Food and Drink. 

A complete analysis of the frauds and deceptions practised upon articles 
of consumption, by storekeepers and manufacturers; with full directions 
to detect genuine from spurious, by simple and inexpensive means. 

Price 12 cts. 

Blunders in Behavior Corrected. A Concise Code of De- 
portment for both sexes. Price 12 cts- 

“ It will polish and refine either sex, and is Chesterfield superseded.”— 

Hone Companion. 

Five Hundred French Phrases. Adapted for those who 

aspire to speak and write French correctly. Price 12 ctg. 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage at tiie Prices annexed. 


Tile Sociable ; or, One Thousand and One Home Amusements. 

Containing Acting Proverbs, Charades, Musical Burlesques, Tableaux 
Vivants, Parlor Games, Forfeits, Parlor Magic, and a choice collection of 
curious mental and mechanical puzzles, etc. Illustrated with engravings 
and diagrams. 

12mo., cloth, gilt side stamp. Price SI 50 

auk Converse’s Complete Banjo Instructor, without a 

vlaster. Containing a choice collection of Banjo Solos, Hornpipes, Reels, 
I figs, Walk-Arounds, Songs and Banjo Stories, progressively arranged and 
plainly explained, enabling the learner to become a proficient ban joist with- 
out the aid of a teacher. Illustrated with diagrams and explanatory sym- 
bols. 100 pages. Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 cts. 

The Magician’s Own Book. Containing several hundred 

amusing Sleight-of-hand and Card Tricks, Perplexing Puzzles, Entertain- 
ing Tricks and Secret Writing Explained. Illustrated with over 500 wood 
engravings. 

12mo., cloth, gilt side and back stamp. Price {£>1 50 

The Secret Ollt ; or, One Thousand Tricks with Cards. A book 

which explains all the Tricks and Deceptions with Playing Cards ever 
known or invented. Illustrated with over 360 engravings. 

398 pages, 12mo., cloth, gilt side. Price $1 50 

Book of Biddles and 500 Home Amusements- Containing 

all kind s of Curious Riddles, Amusing Puzzles, Queer Sleights and Enter- 
taming Recreations in Science, for Family and Social Pastime. Illustrated 

with GO engravings. Paper covers. Price. 30 cts- 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts- 

Parlor Tricks with Cards. Containing explanations of all 

the Deceptions with Playing Cards ever invented. The whole illustrated 
and made easy with 70 engravings. 

Paper covers. Price 30 cts- 

Bound iu boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

The Book of Fireside Carnes. Containing a description 

of the most Entertaining Games suited to the Family Circle as a Recrea- 
tion. Paper covers. Price 30 cts- 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts- 


The Play -Boom; or, In-Dnor Games for Boys and Girls. Small 

octavo, profusely illustrated with 197 fine wood-cuts. 


Bound in boards, cloth back. Price. 50 cts- 

Bound in cloth, gilt side 75 cts. 


The Play- CroUIld ; or. Out- Door Games for Boys. A book of 

healthy recreations for youth. Containing over 100 Amusements. Illus- 


trated with 124 fine wood-cuts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. Price 50 ets. 

Bound in cloth, gilt side 75 Ct-S. 

The Parlor Magician ; or, One Hundred Tricks for the Draw- 

ing-Boom. Illustrated and clearly explained, with 121 engravings. 

Paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Boards, cloth back 50 cts- 

The Book of 500 Curious Puzzles. Containing all kinds 

of entertaining Paradoxes, Deceptions in Numbers, etc. Illustrated with 

numerous engravings. Paper covers. Price 80 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth hack .{ 50 cts- 


Popular Books sent Free of Postage the Prices annexed. 


Dr. valentine’s Comic Lectures; or, Morsels of Mirth for the 

Melancholy. A budget of "Wit and Humor, and a certain cure for the blues 
and ail other serious complaints. Comprising Comic Lectures on Heads, 
Laces, Noses, Mouths, Animal Magnetism, etc., with Specimens of Elo- 
quence, Transactions of Learned Societies, Delineations of Eccentric Char- 
acters, Comic Songs, etc. By Dr. W. Valentine, the favorite Delineator 
of Eccentric Characters. Illustrated with twelve portraits of Dr. V alen- 
tiue, in his most celebrated characters. 


12mo,, cloth, gilt. Price 25 

{ Ornamental paper cover. Price 75 c £k 


The Poet’s Companion; A Dictionary of all Allowable Rhymes 

in the English Language. This is a book to aid aspiring genius in the Com- 
position of lthymes, and in Poetical Elfusions generally. It gives the Per- 
fect, the Imperfect, and the Allowable Rhymes, and will enable you t® 
ascertain, to a certainty, whether any words can be mated. It is invaluable 
to any one who desires to court the muses, and is used by some of the best 
writers in the country. Price 25 cts. 

Ladies’ Guide to Crochet. B}*- Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. 

Copiously illustrated with original and very choice designs in Crochet, etc., 
printed in colors, separate from the letter-press, on tinted paper. Also 
with numerous wood-cuts, printed with the letter-press, explanatory of 
terms, etc. Bound in extra cloth, gilt. This is by far the best work on 
the subject of Crochet ever published. 

Price 351 25 

Chips from Uncle Sam’s Jack Xnife. Illustrated with 

over one hundred Comical Engravings, and comprising a collection ci ever 
five hundred Laughable Stones, Funny Adventures, Comic Poetry, Queer 
Conundrums, Terrific Puns, Witty Sayings, Sublime Jokes, and Senlimen- 
tal Sentences. The whole being a most perfect portfolio for those w)k> love 
to laugh. Large octavo. Price 25 cts. 

Pox’s Ethiopian Comicalities. Containing Strange Say- 
ings, Eccentric Doings, Burlesque Speeches, Laughable Drolleries, Funny 
Stories, interspersed with Refined Wit, Broad Humor, and Cutting Sar- 
casm, copied verbatim, as recited by the celebrated Ethiopian Comedian. 
With several Comic Illustrations. Price 12 cts. 

Mind Your Stops. Punctuation made plain, and Compo- 
sition simplified for Readers, Writers and Talkers. This little book is 
worth ten times the price asked for it, and will teach accurately in every- 
thing, from the diction of a friendly letter to the composition of a learned 
treatise. Price 12 cts, 

Hard Words Made Easy, Rules for Pronunciation and 

Accent; with instructions how to pronounce French, Italian, German, 
Danish, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian, and other foreign names. A capital 
work. Price 12 cts. 

Bridal Etiquette; A Sensible Guide to the Etiquette and 

Observances of the Marriage Ceremonies ; containing complete directions 
for Bridal Receptions, and the necessary rules for bridesmaids, groomsmen, 
sending cards, etc. Price 12 cts* 

The Universal Book of Songs. Comprising a choice col- 
lection of 400 new Sentimental, Scotch, Irish, Ethiopian and Comic Songs. 
12mo., cloth, gilt. Price SI 25 

How to be Heelthy ; Being a Complete Guide to Long 

Life. By a Retired Physician. Price 12 cte. 



Frer 


Frost’s Origin:. 1 J jotter- W j it ^r. 


Frost’s Dialogues tor Young Folks, 50 

Spencer’s Book of Comic Speeches & Humorous Recitations, 5 fi 

North’s Book of Love Letters, with Advice on Courtship. 5t 

Price’s Science of Self- Defense, 1 25 

Bnsbane’s Golden Ready-Reckoner, 35 

,jL<e Marchand’s Fortune Teller and Dream Book, 40 

The American Home Cook Look, 50 

Rarey & Knowlson’s Horse Tamer and Farrier, 50 

Richardson’s Monitor of Freemasonry, 1 25 

Duncan’s Ritual of Freemasonry, ... .• 2 50 

100 Gamblers’ Tricks with Cards Exposed, 30 

Live and Learn ; or 1,000 Mistakes Corrected, 75 

Athletic Sports for Boys. ' 194 Fine Engravings, 75 

The Play-Room; or In-Door Games for Boys and Girls. 197 Illast., 50 
The Play-Ground; or Out-Door (James for Boys. 124 Illustrations. 50 

Book of Household Pets; or How to Tanm and Manage Them 50 

dook of 500 Curious Puzzles. ISO Illustrations, 50 

Book of Fireside Games and Home Recreation* 50 

Book of Riddles and 500 Amusements, 50 

Parlor Tricks with Cards. 70 Engravings, 50 

The Parlor Magician. Full of Tricks. 121 Engravings, 50 

Parlor Theatricals. A Collection of Drawing-Room Plays,. ... . 50 

Martine’s Sensible Letter- Writer. 300 Notes and Letter* 50 

Martine’s Hand-Book of Etiquette. A Good Book, 50 

Day’s American Ready-Reckoner and People’s Calculator, 50 

II illgrove’s Ball-Room Guide. Full of Explanatory Illustrations 75 

The Young Reporter; or How to Write Short-Hand, 50 

Spayth’s Draughts or Checkers for Beginners, 75 

Maraclie’s Manual of the Game of Chess, 50 

The American Card Player, 50 

The Perfect Gentleman. An American Book of Etiquette 1 5f 

The Poet’s Companion. A Dictionary of Rhymes. 25 

Chesterfield’s Etiquette and Letter-Writer 40 

Fontaine’s Golden Wheel Dream Book and Fortune-Teller, 40 
Courtship Made Easy; or The Art of Making Lotg ftilly Explained, 13 

The Arts of Beauty. By Lola Montez, 75 

Send dash Orders to DICK & DITZCLR VLR Yorl , 


